To Hell and Back
by Black Vendetta
Summary: What when we die? and what happens when we become part of somthing far greater? Jack Conner, a CSA Marine, is about to find out, and in the process, he Escapes Hell, and Hell follows. And so does a war.  M for Adult themes, Gore, and all that good stuff!
1. Death

:Chapter One:  
Tears, The water of war. 

* * *

Thunder walked across the tear filled clouded sky on an early September day, winter had arrived.

A small crowed of maybe only twelve or seventeen was gathered on the grassy field below

A line was formed of sharp looking men in black military uniforms, semi automatic rifles clutching in their hands, pointed skywards.

A coffin was then down the two rows in-between the line of military personal. It had a grey, white and blue stripped flag on top of it, with a single red star in the middle of it with yellow tips.

As the coffin moved down the line, only a few people shed tears, one of them was a women, she hid her face, as if she was ashamed to show grief at a funeral, two young adults stood at her side, looking slightly shocked, but there face emotionless, and devoid of any hits of life, they looked so dead, they may need a funeral themselves.

The rain fell harder, and the coffin was lowered into an empty Transport Ship, that looked like a spaceship, long and sleek, with the same flag as an emblem on its side next to two powerful thrusters, with no wings.

The women tried her hardest not to break down.

…Elsewhere…

"Yeah, that's right you bitch. Hold it all in you fucking useless heap of trash… you and the two terminators over there can all go collectively fuck yourselves…Whores…"

The ill mouthed voice belonged to a surprising figure. One sitting in front of a clean slab of granite, the flat edge polished and transparent. The scene played out on the glossy rock, a portal to the living realm.

The man had a stern look on his dirtied face, with a strong jaw and sharp, clever looks. He had piercing light blue eyes border-lining steely grey, while his hair was a matted rusty brown. He had a stubble of a beard on his chin and he looked as if he needed a shave. He was young, as he looked to be the age of 25, and the rank on his BDU shirts' shoulder was that of Lance corporal. He had a dirty face caked with mud. And he wore a futuristic assault vest with urban camouflage and raid BDU and BDU assault leggings. He had on a modernized Raven light assault vest, and a streamlined combat helmet sitting on the ground next to him. And sung on his back was an M416 with an undrebarrle attachment and a holographic sight, a .45 Anaconda sat in its holster on his hip.

On his BDU shirt, there were three large bloodstains, in very close proximity to his heart and lung; he should be worried about them, as it appeared he was injured. But his face shown no pain, nor hurt, just anger and sorrow.

The reason for this was that this was not just any funeral.

It was _**HIS**_ Funeral.

Yep, His name is Jack Conner; he's a CSA 45th Marine of the 807th Strike Battalion, 53rd Division.

And he's dead.

You're probably wondering how he died, and what his back story is. Well then, let's take a look at that, shall we?

…..

Thaldus-42, the rich green planet of the Safra System, third planet left of the burning orange sun Cantorax-657. Large and not largely populated, it is prone to having many rebel attacks often.

Rebel attacks that require trained elites like the CSA Marines to handle.

What exactly are the CSA Marines? Well now, looks like we're going to have a history lesson first before we continue on with this epic.

In the Year 4863, Earth has achieved space voyage long ago, and has now mastered it, venturing off into space was now as common as driving a car, or flying a plane. People now traversed through space all the time in personal space ships, space liners, or other things like that.

New races and empires were discovered.

For instance, the Cyrons.

A race of Anthroptic animals much like the ones we have on earth. Proving the fact that life on earth came from things on other planets. We just adapted accordingly. But there kinds were limited to felines, foxes, wolfs and dogs, and a few others.

Humans and Cyrons got along very well, sharing technology, trading resources, there advances in medical science were far greater than ours. Though there military was considered lacking in substantial defenses.

We helped train them and give them better weaponry, and jets. The poor race didn't even have computers; space voyage for them was treacherous. One mistake could kill the crew.

We stepped in and brought them up to date in military matters, and space flight, we weren't so different in other categories.

But we had no way to combat space threats; it was in both Empires interests at that point and time to form a combined army, they already populated many human planets and colonies, as did we with their colonies and planets.

But it was the terrible Arvakeien Conflict that solidified the pact…

The Universal Defense Pact in the year of 4882, the combined forces of the Cyron and Human Military, together it formed the CSA Marines. The Coalition Space Army Marines, the main infantry force of the CSA, dropped in by cruisers orbiting planets, stopping rebellions, fighting enemies, and winning wars.

But they were made to stop the most ruthless empire the universe has ever known.

The Arvakiein's.

Insectoid like creatures, monstrosities, crushing mandibles, solid exoskeletons, fast, incredible hearing, even better vision, silent, mind blowing technology, they swept across space crushing all who stood before them.

They were like a hive of ants, lead by a giant queen, the look a lot like ants, but two arms and legs, a stinger like tail. They had no visible eyes, but they always saw you first before you saw them, they could cloak themselves and walk on all surfaces. There exo skeleton could withstand a direct hit from a .50 Caliber round at point blank from a Barrette sniper rifle.

They preferred up close and personal combat but the energy cannons on their hands were also favored. The plasma cannons could destroy tanks and short circuit a plane, they could reload by draining an energy source with an attachment on the device.

At first, we thought we would lose…

But then we got mad…

I mean the humans and Cyrons when they saw these things for the first time panicked. But the second time. It's like we just stood back up and said:

"Uh, No…"

And with that, we reincarnated a weapon to match their ferocity. And just as evil as they were, just as malignant, and just as powerful…

Fire…

They were giant ants, and what better way to kill ants then with something that spread like them?

Incendiary rounds were put to use everywhere. Flamethrower attachments were made for rifles in the place of undrebarrle grenade launchers or shotguns.

Tanks were given a napalm round and flame spitting barrels.

Missiles, 20MML, 30MML, Bombs, Mines, and grenades worked just as well, but this new weapon was much better.

The enemy was roasted alive in the heat, there Exoskeletons heating up quickly and boiling their blood. The landscape the battles were fought on was burnt to an unrecognizable black charred ash, but it had to be done, sacrifices has to be made.

Soon we were the ones pushing _them _back and fighting on _their_ land. Instead of the other way around.

When we surrounded their homeland, we shot everything in the space destroyers, space cruisers missile ships, every powerful space launched weapon every space faring military ship capable of launching an orbital strike, shot everything they hand in there bomb bays at the planet, lasers, high powered energy beams, but this opportunity let governments helping the CSA, get rid of there nuclear arsenal.

We dropped 286,325,523,234,163,274 nuclear warheads, bombs, missiles, and material onto that planet.

We nuked the fuck out of it.

N

U

K

E

D

Them to fucking hell.

We blowed' them up.

We blew the fuckin planet up.

It came apart from the force ripping at the surface.

Now just hyper-radioactive material drifting in orbit.

After that they returned home as heroes.

Everyone remembers the day that we won, and now the universe goes back to the way it was, wars, peace, trading, disputes, alliances… all the stuff that makes it what it is.

But yet… an unknown war of good and evil, death and life, virtue and sin, was being waged.

The Great Holy War… the war of angels and demons…

…But that will come to your knowledge later, as for now… The mortal realm.

But, enough with the history lesson… we now go to our hero, in what was supposed to be a decent, easy, mop up mission, on the grassy jungle planet of Thaldus-42… On the day he died.

We'll find him in the final minutes of his life, he, and his platoon, which held his one older sister, and two older brothers, the Conner Family.

His name is Jack Conner, already described crouching behind a brick wall in a small rural town south of the capital of the planet, the town was large, they were trying to push to the church, radical extremists rebels have been trying to take Thaldus-42 for quite some time, the CSA said they were few, and were badly equipped.

They were wrong.

Conner winced as another bullet chipped away a bit of his brick cover. "Fuck!" he swore.

The planning had gone to shit the moment they engaged the enemy the first Marines in the combat patrol went down instantly, and the rest ducked behind any cover they could see near them.

Conner was a stone cold killer, ruthless in combat merciless in killing, a rock hard bastard by all means. This fight was going to test him to his extreme.

There was a main road in the town, the fire was coming from the church that was directly down the road, shops and homes lined both sides of the roads. There was a hill on the right side of the town, a wall lined the houses on that flank, the wall had a dirt path in between the slope of the hill, and the twelve foot high stone wall.

On the left flank was flat open grass land. But the right flank was heavily defended. The left flank was covered from the machine gun in the bell tower, spraying death down on them.

The brick walls at the gates of the town gave them some cover, but whenever someone tried to run around the wall into the cover of the house, they were sprayed.

"I need one squad to take the right flank! We're getting slaughtered here!" the captain shouted of the platoon shouted.

"On it sir!" one woman volunteered, she was a 26 year old women, blue eyes and short blond hair pressed down from her helmet, she was the rank of Staff sergeant.

Next to her, were two men, one had brown eyes and black hair, and looked to be 28, while the other was 29, and had green eyes, with short, curly, black hair.

These were the siblings of Jack Conner, the woman was Maria Conner, the 28 year old was Austin Conner, and the 29 year old was Blake Conner.

But strangely, Jack Conner, the youngest of all of them, had but himself as far away from the rest of his siblings, his squad, as possible.

"Yo! Little Fuck-up! Over here! Now!" Austin shouted to his youngest brother.

"Grrr…" Jack growled, ignoring them.

"JACK!" Maria shouted, "Get your ass over here!" she commanded.

"Hmph." He grunted, he took a deep breath, and then dashed across the gap between the brick wall gate, door blown open by a rocket blast.

He felt bullets pocket the ground around his feet as the Emplaced weapon attempted to shoot him down.

He slid into cover a little ways away from his Siblings.

He hated them with a passion. He despised every single one of them.

Reasons why? Well, that will be revealed in time, my friends.

"Ok boys, we're going to have to take this right flank! MG's chewing us up; we need to move up, establish a defensive line, and provide suppressing fire so our men can move up. And air-support aint' coming for another two hours! Were on our own here! Platoons counting on us guys, so let's do this!" Maria rallied her two older siblings; Jack Conner on the other hand snorted and spat at her.

The glanced around the Corner, they saw a series of fox holes dug into the hill, and bunkers running along the wall, also, storage buildings were set up along the wall.

Austin and Blake glanced at each other, taking this heavily fortified position would be a bitch, going first would suck. They then grinned; they didn't _have_ to go first…

"Yo, little fuck. Think your tough?" Blake grinned.

"Tougher then you, _AND_ I have balls, unlike you two!" he snapped back at them, he glanced over the brick wall, and ducked as a round flew past him.

"Yeah, if you want to prove it, you go first! C'mon, man up!" Austin teased.

"Fuck off!" He growled. He then glanced around the wall, and saw the position. He thought about it. he knew he could take this spot, he felt it in his bones… and after that, maybe he would get some respect… maybe Blake and Austin would stop there endless mockery…

"Fine I'll take point…"he decided.

A dare was all that it took to get there younger brother killed in an act of recklessness… never before had the two older brothers seen death up-close and personal like Maria and Jack had…

They still had the sense that nothing bad ever happens.

"Jack wait!" She shouted, trying to grab hold of his BDU. "GRR! Damnit! Forward! Don't let him get to far ahead!" She commands.

…

Jack blitzed the line hugging the wall they may have good weapons but they had little or no training. He aimed his M416, heavily modified to match the modern times; he fired from the hip at the fox holes his goal right now was to take the first storage building.

He reached the door with bullets licking at his feet. He kicked it in and swept inside, rolling forward he felt the sound of a gun nearby trying to hit him. He looked up as he came out of his role, and looked left, a rebel stood there holding a Sub Machine Gun the resembled an MP5, he swung his Assault rifle up to deal with the threat, and let it fly on fully automatic, tearing chunks of flesh off of the rebel who stumbled back as the bullets hit him.

Blood splattered the walls behind the rebel who fell with a thud. Jack ran past him, kicking away his weapon as he passed.

He ran through the hallway that linked the storage buildings all together, so far the first room was cleared, eight more to go.

He raced into the second room, and dove forward, and swiftly rolled to the left on his back and swept his rifle in a line quickly across the room, holding down the trigger as it sprayed the rest of the mag at the enemy, he drew his holstered side arm one was left slightly stunned by the fact that his six comrades were suddenly killed by this man's appearance.

His existence was swiftly extinguished by the sound of a .45 Anaconda going off, and his head then being torn apart by the .45 caliber bullet passing through his brain.

Jack reloaded his weapon and replaced the missing sixth .45 round into the revolver.

Snapping it shut he re-holstered it promptly.

He saw that one of the Rebels was still alive writhing on the ground holding his chest; he stepped over to the man, and slammed his boot down onto his neck, breaking it.

He walked through the door on the other side of the room with shelves lined with boxes and cans.

He slid up next to the door and slowly opened it, and then tossed a flash bang through the open door, and waited for the concussive bang of it to go off, and then he swept through the open door and blitzed a dazzled Rebel, quickly putting a round through his head on Semi Auto fire mode, he then shot the other five the same way, putting them down with ease.

His two brothers had fallen behind on purpose, letting their sister, and younger brother take care of it, while they just casually strode along.

His sister was rushing to catch up to him, but he was clearing the rooms with breakneck speed and efficiency, that it was mind blowing, he was good at what he did, but this was a whole new level, it was like he was black ops secretly.

Jack cleared three more rooms, two more remained, and he cleared the first one easily. But by now the rebels were on to him in the last room.

It wasn't his fault really. It just sometimes happens, as he opened the door and slipped a flash bang inside, they knew he had done it and the eight enemy rebels covered their eyes and when he swept inside, they opened up on him.

Three rounds passed through his armor and exited out the back, he fell backwards in slow motion, time stopped for him, he saw this, and with one hand fueled by adrenalin, as he fell, he lifted his M416, and held down the trigger, spraying the room with deadly lead, he didn't stop firing as he hit the ground his brain didn't have the time to compute that they were all dead.

He calmed down, the moment had past, his breathing then started to slow, but not because he was calming down, it's because breaths were becoming harder to get.

He looked down; a small pool of blood was forming underneath him. His skin felt sticky on his chest.

He felt his heart beat raise, he tried reaching for his First aid kit, but his arm felt weak, the room started to spin, and spin, and spin. His vision started to fade.

By now Maria had caught up with him. "Oh, my god! Jack!" She shouted, the sound of a weapon falling to the ground was followed up by boots hitting the ground as the same ran over to his side.

"Jack! JACK! Look at me!" She shouted, he felt her hands press against his wound. His head tried to roll over to obey, but he felt all ounces of life leaving him.

He found his strength, and managed to turn his head towards her, the left side of his face was doused in his own life water.

"Jack, just hold on!" She begged him, her blue eyes were stained with tears, she was always the nicer one of the four. Jack guessed he didn't hate her that much. The pain dulled in his chest, and that's when he knew that if he just kept fighting the tunnel vision that threatened to plunge him into the abyss, he may make it out of this…

He felt her grip his hand, squeezing it to reassure him, it was the first time he ever felt loved or wanted by his family.

The first time ever.

"This is Staff Sergeant Maria Conner! I need medical Assist in storage room eight! We have a man down! I repeat! Marine Down!" She cried into the headset on her helmet, calling for a medic, again and again.

"_Roger that, medic is on the way he'll be there in under a minute!" _The reply came back.

"Thank god…" She whispered.

"Mary? What's wrong?" The sounds of his two dreaded brother's footsteps closed in on him.

"What the-"

"Holy shit…"

His two brothers gasped at the scene portrayed in front of him, Maria holding a bloodied hand over his chest trying to stop the vital liquid from pouring out of Jacks body, a pool of blood on the floor, Jacks breath coming in loud ragged gasps, of that of a dying animal.

His legs scrabbled vainly at the floor, the pain was coming back. He let out a hoarse groan; he guessed they got one of his lungs.

He coughed and blood leaked out of his mouth, guess that confirmed that theory.

"Jack, it's going to be ok… Just stay with me…" Maria Begged.

"What…Happened?" Austin's voice was small, the reality of what was going on, and that Jack may still be ok if they hadn't teased him and made him go on this stupid challenge in the first place began to set in.

"He was hit in the chest three times, the exited out his back that's good and bad… they aren't in there anymore, but I think one passed through his right lung… he'll drown in his own blood if we don't get him out of here soon…" She said, worriedly, the grip he had on her hand was weakening considerably.

Pain blossomed in his chest again, and he cringed and tried to sit up, he squeezed the handle on his assault rifle for comfort, his rifle was his best friend, with him 24/7, unlike these three, it was with him till the very end…

The very_…end…_

This thought of death, the thought of what lay beyond. The thought of escaping this so called. 'Family' he had, he could leave them, get the last laugh in their current state, they were scared, they messed up, they told him to do something, but there little brother in danger, and now he may die.

He could die… be free… free from there torment that'll start up again once he's better.

And that's when he decided to leave.

He gave a small sigh… and let go of her hand, it slipped from her grasp cleanly, the tie to his family was severed.

"Jack…? Jack! JACKY!" "MEDIC!"

"_I'm here! Let me through! Hold on!"_

"_Why isn't he breathing?"_

"_I'm losing him! Somebody give me a hand, shock pads going hot! 1…2…3… Clear!"_

"_1…2…3...Clear!"_

"_Clear!...Clear…"_

"_Clear…"_

"_He's…He's gone… he's, he's dead… I'm sorry… I did all I could…"_

"_He's dead…"_

….End Chapter One….

R&R You no good sacks of meat! Read And Review!

Please?


	2. The Outer Circle

…...…..…Chapter Two…..….  
The Outer Circle.  
_  
__"He who doesn't fear death dies only once." ~Giovanni Falcone_

The world exploded into a black, hollow light, not what you would expect in death, you would think black would be the color of choice for something as dark and gloomy as the concept itself.

But once his vision adjusted, Jack Conner shook his head.

He blinked a couple of times to get his eyes accustomed to the low lighting. He was lying on the floor of a cave, still in the gear he died in, the gear that he was shot in, his BDU, Vest, and Leg armor and arm guards. All of it, his rifle was slung over his back, .45 still in place.

He stood up and looked down at his chest, bathed in red. Slightly washed off though, he could still see the bullet holes three of them.

He looked around, and saw the entrance to a circled out area of the cave, on the floor was a ring, and lining the larger area of the tunnel was a circle of torches, he stood at the mouth of it, and then, naturally stepped into the cavern.

He examined the walls lining the cave, chipped and worn. But then, he noticed something happening in the circle.

A black misty gas was being emitted from the cracks in the ground, swirling up until they reached 7ft tall.

The floated in the air, and more still came, until they began to mold themselves into a shape, it was silent, nothing made a sound except his own breathing, the burning torches, his heartbeat, click of weaponry, and footsteps.

What the gas molded itself into confirmed his hopes.

What stood before him was a hooded, cloaked, seven feet tall being, with skeletal black wings on its back, its hood was pulled down over its face, and two red orbs stared out from under them.

"Greetings…" a voice seemed to echo from every direction, low and raspy, like sandpaper on wood. But it was old, ancient in fact, older than anything he could think of, and that included his grandmother!

What was in the beings skeleton hand was a long black scythe, not fancy, just the classic black grim reaper scythe…

The grim reapers scythe….

"Your death? Aren't you?" Conner was not scared of the being in front of him. He was dead. He knew that. He had no reason to be afraid of what happens to everyone in the end.

"Correct…" The raspy voice confirmed. "And you are Jack Conner… are you not?" Death asked, he seemed to float an inch off the ground, and he had no shadow.

"Yes I am…" Conner nodded at the recognition of his name.

"Then it is time for your judgment… Jack, Conner…" Death announced, he held out his two hands, his scythe billowed into smoke that was sucked under the hood.

Instantly in his two hands, first his right appeared a red orb of transparent energy, in the left, a blue orb of the same.

It was hard to tell the difference between the two, but the red orb, was a bit larger than the blue orb.

"Look closely Jack Conner. These two spheres represent the good, and bad in your life, as you can see, the red sphere is bigger than the blue one, meaning your life was heavy with sin. Though I must commend you for the good you have done, you were a soldier is see, risking your life, but yet, taking lives.

"Yeah. All part of the job…sadly…" he sighed. "Least I died the way I wanted to…" He grumbled, He then looked blandly up at the devein being, "Guess this means I'm going to hell?" He sighed.

"Not…Exactly…" Death then seemed to get uncomfortable, like he had an answer, but an uncommon one.

"We rarely get a person like you. People are either clearly bad, or clearly good…you on the other hand…you are more of an enigma… wanting to be good, but evil at the same time… good and bad mix with each other… you're a soldier, that is always good but bad, you kill, but for the greater good, you take no joy in murder, but yet you relish in it. You are sickened by this, and hate yourself, and you hate others, you hurt others intentionally, but yet you wish you didn't but you cannot repent your actions to them, as bad will has been inflicted on you by them many times…" Death laid out his life's story before him easily, like he was reading a teleprompter. But Jack Guessed otherwise, I mean, this is death here!

"Yeah… I guess you could say that…" Jack sighed.

"You are not good enough for purgatory, not virtuous enough for heaven, but not sinister enough for Hell…" Death sighed.

"Then what do I do? If you give me a puppy to kick, I'll do that to make things easier for you on your end?" Jack suggested.

"There is an example. If I did give one to you, you would not kick it, or at least tap it lightly, before giving it something to eat, and what you just said meant that I would not have to struggle to find a final destination for you… you see, you are a evil saint…" Death nodded sagely.

"Well, so much for that options…What about reincarnation?" Jack suggested.

"I am unable to do that." He said plainly.

"Unless…" He then looked at a greenish river behind him; faces could be seen in it…

"Whoa! You're not putting me in there are you?" Jack took a step back from Death.

"No… I think I know just the place for you…"

…

The two walked to the edge of the river, and death raised one hand.

A small wooden boat rose out of the Styx, and floated towards them.

"Get on boar-! Oh, yes, I almost forgot… you need to pay for passage, one piece of money, of any value, from anywhere." Death said, turning to Jack, holding out one hand.

"I got something better." Jack imiedetly snapped off a necklace that hung around his neck.

"I found this on me when I woke up, it's my 'sisters'" He growled the word sister. "I don't want anything to do with my family, take it, its solid gold." Indeed the locket with a picture of all four family members, Jack actually smiling in the picture, this was before the 'incident' occurred.

Jack also took out a small silver cent, worth five pennies on the planet he was on when he died.

Death looked at the locket, and then sighed. "Keep the locket, you'll regret giving it to me later…" He said sagely, he took the single coin, and Jack was allowed to climb on board the boat.

"So, where we going?" Jack was unusually happy he, smirked a little, as he sat in the back of the boat, Death used an oar to guide them down the wide river.

"It is a place just outside the gates of hell, a small island with a mountain range in the center. During the great Holy war, it used to house a great number of demons and homes, but now, after the war, it is abandon, and ruined. Only a few homes are left, some are made out of the materials you'll find on the island.

"Does it have a name?" Jack asked.

"Yes, the Outer Circle. It is populated by only a small number of demons, and a few like you, you may even make friends there. Oh, yes… you'll be given a Demon Supervisor; one has been waiting quiet some time for a soul to look after…" Death said, looking back at jack briefly.

"Is there anything to do there?" Jack asked.

"The island is not that small, it has a few entertainment facilities…" The voice echoed.

"Cool. I'll be sure to check them out. Do I need to pay or something?"

"The dead do not need to pay or relinquish any items…" Death confirmed, rowing slowly.

Jack looked skyward, and to his surprise they were not in a cavern. Above them was a sky, a dark and cloudy one of eternal rain. But no rain fell at the moment. A lighter spot showed were the sun is.

"Why's there a sky in the Hell?" He asked. Death merely chuckled

"Hell is not in the ground like popular belief says it is… Hell is another realm entirely… as is Heaven…" Death rasped.

"Heavens' not my style anyway…" Jack sighed. Leaning back in the boat casually, resting his sore limbs. "So, how much longer until we get there?" he asked. He looked at the scenery as the floated down stream. The edges of the river were covered with low fog, mist, the edges of the river were also home to grasses and shrubs, bushes a trees draped with vines that hung low threatened to snag Jack and plunge him into the water.

As they continued on, the fog became denser until Jack could not clearly see where they are, a sense of vertigo kicked in, but he kept himself calm and controlled.

He decided to sleep; it has been a long day.

Chapter Three…

"Wake up Jack, we are here…" Deaths' raspy voice brought him back to the world of the Damned and weary, he opened his eyes to the cloudy grey light of the sky above, color not known, sun not seen.

As Death rowed, an island could be seen not too far off in a large lake, behind the island a mountain range came into view.

The in the center of the island, a huge mountain towered above everything else, half way up the clouds swirled around it. To the north, a mountain range that got lower as you went farther north. There was the bridge that led to the mainland and Hell itself too. To the east, there was a swampy area, the wetlands of the island. Most of the few inhabitants lived there. To the west, a barren wasteland of preverbal nothingness, just waste from the great holy war, to the south, the shore and everglades that Death was rowing through with Jack as this is said. The two had rowed out of the lake and into the marshy, swampy area of the island; they took a pass that went east, inland until Death docked at a small port. No other boats were seen.

"We have arrived…" Death rasped.

"Bout' damns time…" Jack sighed. He got off the boat and stepped onto the dock, Death motioned for him to follow.

They walked through the forest of the swamp low hanging branches and vines made for rugged terrain, the mist on the ground didn't help when a hidden vine reached out to trip you, Jack found himself face down in the mud more than once during the journey.

But they soon exited the swampland, and they found themselves walking over great rolling plains of dirt and sand, sparse grasses grew, and hollowed out husks of tree's were strewn everywhere. Small ponds and streams ran through here and there, rocks and boulders were everywhere, jagged rocky spikes stuck up out of the ground randomly. The dirt was sort of a reddish color really, like a dull faded brick red, with more of a yellowish tan or brown in it. The sand was golden like on a beach.

They walked for about an hour, Jack had to keep up with Death's steady, unwavering brisk pace of a jog. He didn't seem to touch the ground at all, this fascinated Jack endlessly.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Jack complained, his legs were beginning to tire.

"Not much…" The raspy voice answered, from all directions.

And death, once again, was true to his word, they reached the base of the eastern face of the mountains, a bit of a swamp was at the foot of the mountains, they entered the swamp once again.

After trekking through the marsh for about ten minutes, they reached a house.

It was more of a rusted out shack, the same size of a large mobile home. With a front yard picketed with a fence made out of sticks and poles, tied together with rusted barbed wire. The shack had a second story that was small and with a window, the glass dirtied and mucked up. in the front yard was one of the trees with low hanging vines, and it had bones and skulls circling around it, Death pushed open the front gate, and stepped up to the door, Jack hesitantly followed.

"This is the home of who will watch over you during your stay…" Death hissed.

"Oh…Okay…" Jack was getting nervous, he read about demons before as a child, horrible monsters with gnashing teeth, scale like skin, long curved horns fiery breath and sharp claws as long as your head, wings of a dragon and a tail that would stab through you and tear out your heart!

"Err…This thing is going to torture me…isn't it?" Jack shuffled his feet, keeping one hand on his trusty .45; not knowing if that could even ward off an impending attack…"

Death chuckled. "Not at all…you are only partly damned, remember? You have earned the right to not be harmed in you finale destination… you will not be hurt, unless of course, you are attacked by another demon… but you will be allowed to defend yourself…" Death told him, his heartbeat calmed.

"Oh, Good…But were will I find ammo? I can't take one of these things with just a knife?" Jack then added.

"You will be surprised; you died with ammunition on you did you not?" Death asked.

"Always."

"In Hell, Souls never truly die if they are killed… they always wake up next morning, completely the same… the reason for this is so they can be tortured once again… but completely the same means waking up with everything they died with on them once again…" Death told him. "It made some problems in the past… when the Spartans died… That was a bad day…" Death seemed to shudder.

"Ouch" Jack cringed.

"But now it is time to meet your overseer…" Death rapped a boney knuckle on the door.

"?" a crash came from inside followed by a stumble and then something, finally, reached the door.

It opened, and what met Jack's eyes, was far different from anything he's ever seen before, and completely skewed any pervious thoughts he had of demons.

It was a she, for starters, and she had fur, not tough bright red skin. Her fur was midnight black, silky and ivory. While her chest, inside of her legs, underside of her arms, were purple, violet colored. She had very long hair, uncommonly white, snow white like the stars and moon. Bangs fell over her violet, bright and lively, eyes. She had two small horns poking out of her hair, and angling backwards with a jagged backwards curve. She had two small fox ears as well, black like the majority of her fur. On her back was the main attraction. Two black bat wings, folded up neatly on her back, in proportion to her body. Also, the fur on her back had purple stripes running down them to the tip of her long Black Panther tail, the tip of which was colored purple. She had claws on her paws and feet. Her face looked innocent, and the muzzle was grey like the clouds, so were the insides of her ears, two small fangs poked out from her upper lip, the larger of her sharp carnivore teeth. She was wearing a torn and tattered grey T-shirt, a bit too small for her, she had no pants or underwear on, and the tight hugging shirt didn't cover that much, she wasn't small that was for sure, but not oversized either. She looked like she was around the human age of 18, or a bit younger, she looked at Death and smiled. "Hiya!" she chirped happily. Her voice was optimistic, and sweet, like a child's, but it had a hiss to it. But it also sounded innocent. She also stood around 5'7, about three or two inches shorter then Jack.

'_Hiya?'_ Jack thought _'Am I dreaming? Am I really in Hell?'_ He thought to himself, Hiya was one thing he would think demons would most definitely NOT, say.

"Greetings, Cyraxo." Death said warmly, patting the girl Demon on the head, she wagged her tail happily.  
(SIgh-RAcK-sOh)  
"Cyraxo… I want you to watch over Jack Conner here during his stay in Hell…" Death told her and the instant after she said that, her violet eye's beamed instantly when he said this, "Really!" She meeped.

"Yes… I'll be checking in on you now and then…. To see how he is doing… I'll be leaving you now…" Death turned to leave, when another voice beckoned his name.

"Death!" A gruff and harsh voice. But distinctively female.

Death looked up and so did Jack and Cyraxo, to see a Demon swooping towards them from the sky, as the demon swooped low and landed on the ground near them, crouching as it hit the hard earth.

It was another female, Jack had yet to see a male, but this one was very different from the innocent looking Cyraxo. For instance, she had long fiery orange hair that went past her shoulders; it was clean and well groomed. Her eyes seemed if they were forged out of fire, a burning inferno of hate and rage. Her spotless fur was black and yellow; her chest was black, as were the insides of her arms legs, and tail tip and ear tips. Her tail was that of a foxes, except a bit longer, she had fox ears as well and a longish muzzle and snout that sported two sharp fangs poking out from her upper lip, on her back were two large black feathered wings. Her black furred feet moved and walked her over to the group and her paws curled into fists at her sides, before rolling themselves out, dagger like ivory shadow claws flicking out. She was wearing nothing her fur was slightly damp, like she had to leave in a hurry from somewhere. Jack guessed that decency in Hell would be hard to find, at Least Cyraxo wasn't stark naked. He didn't want the person he'd be staying with to be naked 24/7. Austin may, but he wasn't a pervert like his dick older brother. In fact seeing how well proportioned Ryvex and Cyraxo were in female body aspects, Austin may as well be the _un_-lucky one at the moment.

"Ryvex!" Cyraxo cheered, (Ri-Vex) waving to the older looking female demon, who seemed to be around the age of 25, but towered over jack, standing close to 6'4 while jack was a measly 6'1, Cyraxo, just coming in at 5'7, or 5'5 or 5'6. Jack wasn't good at guessing.

"Grrr." Ryvex growled at the younger demon as she passed her. Not even making eye contact, Cyraxo took a hesitant step backwards.

Now Jack, who was newly dead, and used to people stepping out of _his_ way, was just so happening to be standing in front of Death as Ryvex marched over to the Devine being.

He expected her asking him to kindly move out of her way or step around him, instead, she grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side causing him to almost trip.

That's when Jack got angry.

Now, Jack has a history that is not for the faint of heart. He's had his fair share of bullying or being pushed around, much of it by his own family, even though it sounds impossible at first without proof.

He sucked up his gut when he enlisted; he knew he would be bossed around.

But when he died, he didn't have to put up with that kind of crap anymore. He _thought_ it was over.

That was true; it was over, unless you were around Ryvex.

But Jack was new to the Outer Circle. He didn't understand the rules, if there were any, and rules were applied when Ryvex was around, and Jack was new to Ryvex.

But Ryvex was also, new to Jack.

"Death, you go to let me-!"

'_**BANG!'**_

Ryvex was promptly, and rudely, interrupted by Jacks gloved fist, connecting solidly with her face, Jacks face was twisted into a fury, which unfortunately for Ryvex, 85% was directed at her, 10% at his lack of alcoholic beverage intake, and the remaining 5% is there just because he likes to be mad all the time.

"PUSH ME AROUND WILL YOU?" Jack shouted, fists curled up in rage, Ryvex lay sprawled on the ground slightly in a daze from the sudden haymaker that was delivered via Jack Fist Air International. Painful Quick, There.

"GRR!" Ryvex growled up at the unlikely source of conflict, and now freshly minced hot slag, She got up and stared Jack down, with three inches on him, Jack only now noticed that she, unlike Cyraxo had a fighters build, and could probably take down three Pro Ultimate fighters at the same time.

But Jack relished Hand to hand or knife fights, or even dulling with rifles as clubs and bayonets, sticks, Crowbars, lead-pipes, hockey-sticks, beer bottles, and one time, even a wall clock, he was a excellent CQC combatant. And being a hardened veteran of war, he knew how to dish out the hurt without remorse, or mercy, and did I forget to mention that Jack _NEVER_ fights fairly?

But before any blood or fur flew Death intervened. "ENOUGH!" the voice shook the surrounding area. Ryvex and Jack looked startled, but stopped and looked at him. "I don't want to have both of you trying to kill each other _just_ yet… Cyraxo has waited a long time for her chance to supervise someone, Ryvex, you wanted to tell me something, be quick about it I cannot stay for long…" He asked.

Jack Glared one more time, and pointed to fingers at his eyes and then his pointer finger at her, telling her that she made a bad enemy.

She hissed at him and walked past him, and up to death. "Yes… as I was saying, Death, please you got to let me do this! I'm telling you I can handle it! You know I can! I'm the best warrior fire demon in Hell! Please! You got to let me back in!" She begged him practically, eyes begging.

"I am sorry Ryvex… But you know I don't have the jurisdiction to give you access into Hell after what yo after what you did… You must spend the time you were sentenced to in exile here… You know the rules." Death shook his cloaked head at her.

"But He's dead! It's anarchy! Nobody cares anymore! They leave everyday! Why can't I?" Ryvex begged the question to death, staring up at him.

"He may be dead but I am still the judgment. The guardian and I will not let you until the time has come. Orisaf was also looking for you a while ago. You should go talk to him, it sounded urgent…" Deaths' raspy voice of wisdom advised. With a finale sigh, she turned around and beat her wings twice before taking off and flying off to the northern mountain ranges in search of this, 'Orisaf'.

"When will she learn…? Poor child…" Death huffed.

"Who was that?" Jack asked. "And what the fuck is her problem?" he then spat. Crossing his arms.

"That's my older sister!" Cyraxo answered. "She's mean a lot… but most fire demons are!" Cyraxo sighed.

"Older… Sister?" Jack sputtered. He saw no resemblance between the two.

"Indeed. But I must be off now. I will check in on you, and see how you are fairing in some days time. Until then, try to relax. Farewell now." Death spoke to Jack, slowly turning into gas tenders once more, and sinking into the cracks into the ground, Jack looked at this, fascinated, Cyraxo, obviously seeing it before, was distracted by a tree.

"…" After standing around in the barren front yard of Cyraxo's house, Jack sighed and looked down at the young Demoness, who was looking up at him with curious youthful violet eyes.

"So, should we go inside? Looks like rain." Jack suggested, jerking his thumb at the door that was loosely hinged onto the rusty shack. And sure enough his forecast held true, rain drops leaked from the clouds.

"Ok!" She chirped, pushing the door open and the two unlikely roommates walked inside.

"Well, here it is!" She announced, sweeping her arms at the inside of the first floor.

It was cozy, that was for sure, surprisingly warmer on the inside then outside.

The supposed lounge was on the left side of the shack, it had a torn up couch with a wall on the opposite side next to the door were jack and Cyraxo stood that had a book shelf, to the right of Jack, lined with strange trinkets and books that look worn and old, lots of them too.

To the left of the room, there was the kitchen, that held a fire place with a makeshift chimney sticking up to the roof, and out through it. Also, there was a table, and an oil lamp sitting onto op it. In front of Jack and the cute young Demoness, was a ladder that led to the second story, climbing up it they crawled into the bedroom. Two mats and a window with the curtain drawn shut at the foot of the bed. Pushed up against the wall was a small chest, locked shut, were he guessed her valuables were kept.

"This is where we'll sleep! So…what do you think?" She asked him, the top floor had just enough room for them to sit straight without hitting their heads on the roof.

"Actually…this is pretty impressive… you made this yourself?" He asked.

"Yes, Death helped me somewhat in getting the materials… saying that It's not entirely safe for me to go out into the wastes… something about stalkers and rapists… but other than that I made the rest, took me all my life, but I was always good at buildings stuff!" She chirped.

"I see, is this thing sturdy?" He asked, rapping on the roof with his knuckle, it felt pretty solid, so were the things holding it up. Metal bars and pipes. He understood that death helped with the foundation and frame of the house. But he got a little worried that she said that the Demon males were that sex driven that they'd do that to the young Demoness before him. But she is barley clothed, in fact, when going up that ladder he _insisted_ he went first, he wasn't that curious on seeing if female Demons have the same parts human and Cyron females have.

But from the looks of it, so far, the first two Demoness's he's seen so far, either wore barley anything or absolutely nothing. By the looks of it, he's going to find out whether he likes it or not.

"I don't know about you, but I'm wiped. I'm heading to bed, you?" He said, laying down on one of the mattresses, taking off his helmet and most of his armor and laying them next to him, rifle close at hand, and .45 Close to his hip.

"Ok, I'm a bit tired too. It should be nighttime up in the living realm anyway." She smiled, and indeed the light outside began to fade even more; a slightly golden hue was added to the eternal grey. She then took off her meager cloths, and threw them to the side. She really was quiet pretty in all aspects, extremely naïve, but very fair.

"G'night." Jack muttered, shutting his eyes. Thinking about the day gone past.

Cyraxo lay on her Mattress soon falling asleep and curling up slightly.

But soon an hour into both of their slumbers, Cyraxo rolled over closer to Jack, uncurling and pressing up against him, and with that, she slept much better, but in dreams, not quite so...

….End Chapter Two…


	3. The past returns to haunt us

…Chapter Three….  
Pain of the body, Corruption of the soul

"_He who doesn't fear death dies only once." ~Giovanni Falcone_

.

.

.

.

__

In Jack's Dream… 

__

"Hey! C'mon you little runt! You tellin' me that you're done already?" A Younger version of Austin cackled, as a small, innocent looking boy lay before him; curled up in a ball shielding his head with his scarred arms. They were in a heavily forested area that looked as if it was in the middle of nowhere. A small cottage lay far behind them in the woods near a dirt road.

"_Austin please!" It was Jack, when he was just six. He was covered with bruises and scratches, his lip was split and half his face had blood on it leaking from a cut on his forehead. "Please! Just stop!" Jack begged._

_Austin's face became dark with anger, the large stick in his hand fell forward, and struck Jack once again on the back, causing the boy to cry out in pain._

"_Ha-ha-ha! Get him Austin! Show that little fucker!" younger Blake cheered on his older brother, behind Austin the two older siblings watched in contempt as their younger sibling was brutally beaten. _

_Jack wanted to run but his legs wouldn't let him, he wanted to hide but they would find him, he wanted to scream but no one would hear him, he wanted to fight, only to fight._

_Fight…_

_Fight?_

_Fight! _

_FIGHT!_

_**FIGHT!**_

_Those were the words that changed his life… and the darker side of Jack emerged from the cuts on his arms the slashes on his wrists, the scars on his back and the animal within feasted on the remains of the young innocent boy that never raised a finger in defiance. _

_His only unrightfully judged crime was being born into a family that didn't take. His roots were never settled. _

"_STOP-IT!" Jack cried, grabbing the stick as it swung low to beat upon him once more, tearing it out of his older tormenters grasp, he smashed the timber upon Austin's face without remorse, unlike the blows that were dealt to him, just to scar and main, these were meant to kill and break. _

_Austin cried out bringing his hands up to shield his face from the rain of blows, he fell backwards and Jack was already there, raining pain down on him without mercy, beating him like a drum, or a baseball. Trying to hurt him as much as he could in the short period of time he had. _

_Then Blake and Maria were there, grabbing Jack, Maria tore the stick out of his hands and Blake pinned the furious child to the ground, but Jack still bit his hands and arms, drawing blood, to this day all three siblings have scars on their arms, first they were just sticks, then bites, then glass, then knives-stab wounds._

_Blake has bit marks on his arms, and stab wounds in his back, Maria has a cut on her cheek were a piece of glass was thrown at her, and glass bottle that is, a beer bottle. Jack had his first drink at age ten. _

_Austin has a slightly crooked nose, and jagged scars and burn scars on his legs, when jack set up a trap that when he came into his own room, where Austin thought he would be safe. A pot of boiling hot water seared his legs raw, burning off skin, and glasses set up on the door rained down on him shattering and sticking sharp shards into the already destroyed flesh. _

_Needless to say Jack was becoming ever more cunning…_

_But they beat him harder when he fought Harder._

"_Take this you little piece of crap!" Blake growled, slamming Jack into a tree, bloodying his Nose, Jack was eleven now, and his hair was ragged and cut badly, he wore a black shirt and jeans. _

"_ERRG!" Jack elbowed Blake in the gut but he held firm and slammed his head against the wood once more _

"_You fucking ass! How dare you ruin my fucking Mags you little prick?" He swore, slamming him into the tree again and again. _

"_Fuck off you wanker!" Jack shot back, struggling to get out, Blake slammed him one more time into the tree, he felt blood trickle down into his eyes._

_Blake there him onto the ground and left him there, walking back up to the house where their parents abandoned them. _

_Seeing Blake leave, Jack let out the pain and tears, curling up and slowly rocking himself, he felt the top of his head._

_He brought his hand down at looked at it._

_Blood._

_His Blood._

_Again._

_He put his head against his knees, and cried, cried because no one loved him, cried because they all hated him, cried because they wouldn't stop, cried because he thought they would kill him._

_A boy his age should never cry for those reasons._

_No 11 year old should cry out of fear of death, by his own brothers and sister._

_No child should have to fight just to survive brutalization from his family._

_Jack shouldn't._

_But yet he does…_

_25 Years of crying alone, holding it in until the very end._

_Maria stared out of the cold window at her younger brother, they don't even call him that, that mark of shame out there in the cold, they call __it__ the 'Little Fuck Up.'_

_She put her hand over the locket that held there one happy moment all together before the 'incident' occurred…_

_….In Cyraxo's Dream…._

_Blood stained claws were all that she saw, her vision coated red with rage and insanity, _

_Kill._

_KILL_

_**KILL!**_

_Those words echoed in her ears, she rushed the poor soul tearing her oversized claws through it and slamming it into the ground and goring it with her massive fangs, tearing out it's heart._

_She panted, her giant black bat wings beat slightly, _

_More._

_MORE_

_**MORE!**_

_She needed this, she __wanted__ this… the inescapable, unquenchable, __**infuriating**__ hunger, more blood, more meat, more killing, more, more, MORE!_

_Her legs moved faster, the half finished meal no longer appealed to her, no fresh warm blood leaked out of its chest, ribs cracked in her maw as she splintered it in half , her eyes spotted another feast, she leaps forward, tackling the fleeing demon, the one with orange hair and eyes, terror flooded it's system, the other blue one panicked trying to get her off of her._

_Memories raced through her system, _

_**THIS WAS THE ONE!  
**_

_This was the one that did this to her! She! Her! It was her that started this hunger! It was the one that ignited the beast with in! The Thirst! The Urge! The Hunger! It was all HER!_

_With a mighty savage snarled and roar she brought her hand back laced with savage teeth and talons, she plunged it forward but a burning hot fiery breath repelled it, it only strengthened her resolve to kill the little fuck!_

_But it was denied! Her! The Queen of all shadows! The Alpha female! The Apex! The Night Terror! The winged shadow! HER! She snarled as a forced rain from the blue one, a bolt of lightning! And fire punched her in from all directions, forcing her off her prey!_

_It scampered off, and revenge was denied!_

_That's when darkness enveloped her rage, and she grew quiet… the night of blood has ended…_

_The beast was once again caged…_

_Caged, but not tamed… _

_No one can tame it…_

_Not even her…_

_Never…._

_End Dreams'_

….

Cyraxo sat bolt upright, her eyes wild, and sweat poured over her body, her hands tore holes in the mattress, her tail jerked left and right, her breath was rapid swift inhales and exhales. The memory remained fresh in her mind that horrible hunger that savage urge that dryness of her mouth… the _NEED_ for blood…

She felt her heart, beating a miles a minute it felt as if it was high fiving her head she had placed over it.

She looked to her right and Jack wasn't there. But she heard noises coming from downstairs. She crept to the opening where the ladder was located; she pulled back the little hatch that separated both floors from each other.

She silently climbed down the ladder, it was confirmed now, she peeked over at the couch, it was light out, only slightly, as it was still 5:30AM, and the grey clouds still coat the sky.

Jack was hunched over on the couch, hands over his face, sobbing into them, his body shuddered, his T-shirt he always had under his BDU was soaked in nervous sweat.

He didn't see her, so she went over to the couch and sat down next to him, her Night Terror was no longer a concern, the reoccurring memory that she had. Jacks problem was now hers, he mattered a great deal to her.

She unfolded her left wing, and wrapped it as far as it could go around jack and put her left arm around him also. The leathery wing warmed him, her arm consoled him.

He jumped a little when he noticed her. He need not look; he was too ashamed to be crying in front of someone. Whenever he cried in front of his early life tormenters they would berate him about it endlessly.

But she was different, she asked him what was wrong, and tried to console him, she hugged him and let him cry, not tease him about it.

He almost forgot what kindness was…

Maybe….Maybe Cyraxo was the key to him being able to feel again… Maybe it was her that could heal his wounds, the cuts on his wrists and the scars on his back, and the wounds on his body and the blood on his soul…

The wounds within and the scars on the out.

…End Chapter Three…


	4. All is gone, and all is old

….….Chapter Four…

All is lost, all is old.

.

.

.

She dreamt that night of Jack, the days of their youth… the days that her soul corroded over and became a dark malignant temple of Hell.

Maria, her 'not-so-nice' Days, the days when she joined in on Jacks torment… but something changed on his fifteenth birthday, in both of them. He stopped trying to hurt them…

…and started trying to _**KILL**_ them!

Knives, glass, traps, he almost got his hands on a fire arm once, this made Maria question herself… did she really hate him? Or was she just following along with her two older brother's endless torture of him.

And the answer was no, no she did not hate them, but yes, she did just let herself be swayed into hurting her brother…

And for that, she hated herself.

But now, now the full effect and reality kicked into full swing, they stumbled into their barracks the night after the funeral.

Just fell onto their bed. Maria wished she apologized. She was going to, in fact all of them would. They talked long and hard, about what they did. Why they did it, and that they wanted their brother back, _the real jack_ the one that just wanted to be held.

But now they could never hold him.

He was gone…

"He's gone…" Maria whispered right before the nightmare closed its iron fist around her.

She saw the bullets fly into Jack, his face glaring at her from the coffin, him sitting up and shouting at her

"_YOU DID THIS TO ME!_" Before it was lowered into the grave.

She felt his pain, his torment, his grief, his suffering, all 25 years of it.

Any hope, any repentance, and hope of second chances, any kind of hope at all! Any hope of forgiveness from Jack, was squashed, scratch that.

ANNIHILATED WITH NUKES.

DEATH.

THERE'S NO RESPAWN BUTTON FROM THAT.

…

The trio of Angst Fairies trudged out of their Barracks and into the painful daylight.

"Fuck…" Austin sighed.

"My…." Blake Groaned.

"Life…" Maria whimpered.

"ATTEN-TION!" A loud commanding voice shouted.

They were in a compound; a barbed wire fence surrounded the football field sized area. Barracks lined the barbed wire fence, in the middle of the compound was a flag pole; the bottom had sandbags surrounding it. There was a tent by it, large and pegged down, a forward command tent.

There were other buildings scattered around the compound, armories and the mess hall and medical station.

Outside the compound military vehicles drove by, and landing zones for the space ships coming from the space ports a few miles away to rest were being taken up by large troop transports, that battle that Jack died on… it was the last battle. After that, after Jack killed the Rebel leader! They all surrendered, but they blew themselves up before they could get any information off them.

But Jack was a hero.

In the end, it was Jack that got the last laugh it seemed. Left his Siblings dumb struck and anguished as they would never see him again and say there sorry, he died a war hero, awarded the Medal of Honor, as her came from an American colony… and he finally got away from them… But still… she wanted her little brother back, she didn't care how he felt towards her.

She just wanted to see him again…

That's all she wanted.

She stood there in her BDU and armor, next to her brothers; they were lined up to get off this rotten planet. Jacks body was being sent back home to be buried on her home planet as well.

She couldn't take it anymore.

She cried.

…..End Chapter Four…..


	5. The birds, bees, and 1943 WWII Marine

…Chapter Five…

The bird, the bees, and the WWII Marine.

"Hey, Cyraxo?" Jack said. He had finished crying. Cyraxo decided to not wear her torn up shirt today. Jack wasn't complaining. He owed her.

"Yes Jack?" She asked, smiling up at him.

"What's there to do around here? I'm getting a little stir crazy." He sighed.

"Oh! Well, there's a lot! We could go to the bar, it's just east of here. Not that long of a walk either." She suggested.

Jack grinned, a bar, now that's more like it. "Sounds great, let's go there.

"Ok!" Cyraxo yipped, grabbing Jacks hand; she dragged him out the door, and out into the early morning fog.

…

They walked along for about a calm thirty minutes or so along the base of the mountain, heading eastward through the trees and tall tangled grass. Jack was slightly surprised by the lush green vegetation. From what he heard hell was a barren evil wasteland filled with demons and the souls of the forever damned.

But yet, any demons that were here, have so far failed to cross his gaze, not including Cyraxo and Ryvex. Maybe it was just mainland hell that was scorched and raped.

They continued onwards for another couple minutes, exiting the jungle like swamp and walking into a grassy desert like terrain, hard earth with brown grass and sand, some trees sprouted here and there. And large rocks jutted out of the ground, long towering spires of red earth.

They walked through a valley of these same rock formations, a forest of them, some small some large, one thing was for sure, DO. NOT. TRIP.

They passed through that a few minutes later and a street met their eyes, an old dirt road, lined with ruined and vacated houses. It was a small town built at the foot of a small mountain range, practically a hill, except it had a dramatic slope, and only went a couple hundred feet high.

They walked down the street, passing Demons, Cyrons, and Humans. There were all sorts of people. Male, female, and children even. Some of the Demons were different looking; they seemed nothing like Ryvex or Cyraxo. Some had blue striped fur, with darker blue stripes, and long, savage looking claws, but were short, but angry looking. Some were huge with dark brown or tan fur, like oxen or bulls. Some were elegant and slender looking with large black feathered wings and long necks, with sharp green and black fur. And straight jagged horns, some looked like Cyraxo, but lacked any wings. But one thing was for sure, all the Demons, were _NOT_ Friendly.

Cyraxo led the nervous Jack through the town getting glares from all directions, until they reached a long building at the base of the mountain itself.

It was a long wood cabin. With two floors, and a weathered roof, a wooden door marked the entrance; there were only a couple windows. As they went inside, the scenery changed.

It was like an old fashioned bar/club. Seats up at the bar and comfier seats at the walls of the building in one corner of the bar a pair of bare naked Demons went at it madly, there groans were drowned out slightly by the music and clinking of glasses, but it was still there.

Jack guessed it was common place for the female sex of the Demon race to be naked, so far, he's only seen torn cloths, mostly shirts. Same went for the males, equally garmentless.

Jack felt more at home in the serene environment. He knew how to act here, and he knew his place. He took a seat up at the bar, letting his arms rest on the wooden counter. Cyraxo took a seat a few seats away from him. Looking around at the place with a Naïve smile on her lips.

"Sledgehammer, two vodka." Jack said, raising a finger as the Bartender walked by, a Bright blue demon, he nodded, and went to fix the hardcore drink.

A Sledgehammer was a drink most soldiers knew for its rough taste. And that it used hard stuff, and kills livers. Only the veterans had the stuff, six shots of whisky, lime juice, any number of Vodka, Tabasco sauce, and one shot of Tequila.

Sounds incredibly damaging, but war makes you want to have something that woke you up and shook you around, and slapped you in the face a few times.

But you can only have one a day, any more and you may get alcohol poisoning.

The drink was placed in front of him; he stirred it a few times with his finger, and then downed the whole thing in three gulps. He shivered once as the spice kicked in, searing his raw throat.

He felt a little giddy as the warming affects of the ale cleansed his system, he then glanced over at Cyraxo, wondering if the young Demon drunk.

She did more than that.

What could be the most surprising moment of Jacks death met him in the form of Cyraxo openly letting a male demon -a black one like her but wingless, and bother his longer horns were chipped at the top- Caress her and feel the Demoness breasts, and womanhood. She didn't seem to be uncomfortable, more or less confused, but submissive, she sat on his lap, and Jack thought he saw him take her hand and bring it down to his manhood.

Jack seeing enough for the moment raised a hand and ordered a light whisky, when it arrived, he was aware that another person was sitting next to him.

He glanced over, and for the second time, was surprised and shocked.

Because, sitting next to him… Was a WWII Marine…?

On his head, he had the standard Olive green Helmet with fishnet coating over it, the brown leather straps hung loose at the side of his dirty sun burnt face, he had messy black hair that was patted down from his helmet he removed, and set on the bar table. He had deep brown eyes, with golden flakes in them. His BDU shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders; the Olive green shirt had lighter and darker blotches of green and dull greenish brown on it. The vest he had over it had pockets for ammunition magazines and a couple grenades clipped on to certain points.

He had slightly worn olive green pants with the same camo coating as his shirt. A belt hung around his waist, with a holstered Colt .45, smoke grenades, a radio, medical kit, MRE's, Canteen, Machete, combat Knife, Binoculars, and a sack. He looked as if he was around the age of 27, two years older than Jack, and far stronger. But then again, he _was_ a WWII Marine.

Around his neck were dog tags, ones that should've been removed.

On his back he had a .45 Caliber Thompson sub machine gun, and an M-1 Garand. Two powerful weapons that went down in history as American iconic weapons, along with the Springfield, BAR, Browning .50 Caliber Heavy Machine Gun, and Colt .45 pistols.

Jack then noted his patches; he was a Sergeant of the 5th Marines 2nd Division, a skull with a star on its forehead and a five on the star, along with the Marine emblem.

The marine by now had noticed that the Boy was staring at him, he glanced over and smirked. "Sorry kid, but I don't swing that way." He chuckled, taking a big swig of his Liquor.

Jack Chuckled, the guy had a funny accent, Texan. "Hey, it aint everyday you see a guy from the 1940's." Jack defends.

The Marine looked down at jack; he was a few inches taller than the CSA Soldier. "It aint everyday you see Hell, but hey? 'Least the Booze still flowin'" The Marine smirked raising his glass and drinking the rest of the amber drink.

Jack didn't know whether to like, or hate the guy. He was cocky, cocky and savvy. "Who are you?" Jack inquired.

"Sergeant George McKinney, 5th Marines 2nd Division, Bravo Company, Cutter Platoon, You?" George Asked.

"Lance Corporal Jack Conner, CSA Marines, 807th Strike Battalion. Forward Platoon." Jack Answered.

"Nice to see a fellow Marine down here, never heard of that branch before. But hey, I've been down here a looong ass time…" The Marine chuckled.

"Really? When did you die?" Jack asked.

"1943. Guadalcanal, shot in the stomach during a rain storm. Lay there in the mud for days. They didn't find me and that place was my grave, found me a few days later but I was already long gone."George sighed.

"Shit… 1943, the year right now is 5002…" Jack swore. "I don't even want to know how old that makes you…"

"Old, but I'm really just 27." George winks. "You don't age at all here… Demons don't age... they just grow slowly to suit their bodies, and element types." George tells him this like its common knowledge.

"Huh?" Jack says bewildered.

George glances down at the new comer to Hell. "Oh, you must be new here. Allow me to explain, I've been here a while." George turns so he's facing Jack, one arm rested on the table.

He clears his throat, and prepares for a lecture. "Well, you see… there are five main types of Demons; Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, and Shadow. Fire Demons are the big bastards of Hell. They got Horns that curve back over their heads, and black bat wings, that's how you can spot them, but they also have three standard fur colors. Red, orange, and black, sometimes yellow. They got short heads and the trademark demon tail. There the rash ones, cocky motherfuckers. Fire don't hurt them so much, they also can use fire, of course. But they can be trusted. They have honor, unlike most demons. Next, we have Water Demons. Almost the opposite of fire Demons, they got blue tints in their fur, and no horns. They can't fly, got no wings. But they got teeth and claws, and they can swim, in fact, there like the only demons that can. Good in snowy places, not much for land. They are cool most the time. Not that hostile. Next are Wind Demons, They have long necks and black feathered wings, best flyers; they can go real high, higher than any fire demon that for sure. They can shoot lightning that makes them reeeall dangerous. But they are the most sadistic bastards you'll ever see, green and black fur, never seen any other colors cept white and blue. Now on to earth demons, big, bulky, and strong as fuck. Use the biggest weapons ever, but there slow. Nut they be like a tank man, like a TANK. Biggest horns and they WILL gore you with them. But finally, Shadow Demons, don't know much about them, they aint that common, but there bad shit to get angry at. They the stealthiest assholes you'll ever see. Don't get on the bad side of one… I hear they can go crazy, and get all crazy feral like. Kill anything around them…" George goes on for a bit more, and then Jack tells him about life back in the living realm. And George listens on, intrigued.

"Space ships…Damn…" He whispers.

But soon, the two had to part ways.

"Say, we should meet back here some time. Nice meeten you, but I gota go, stuff to do." George finishes. He stands up and the two shake hands. Before giving each other a salute, Georges was sloppy, while jacks were crisp. But hey, they come from different times.

"Yeah, see you around. Same time tomorrow?" Jack suggests.

George smirks. "Sounds good." George Nods, before walking out he door.

Jack sighs, and looks back at Cyraxo. He frowns a little, but shakes his head. "Kids these days…" He sighs, he shields his eyes slightly.

After a few moments, the Male left, walking out the door after giving Cyraxo a slap on the ass.

A few moments past, and Jack stood up and walked over to her, to her credit he only persuaded her to give him a Hand job.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." He said.

The duo walked out the door, the young Demoness was busy trying to clean the dude's seed out of her fur around her waist.

'_Is it me, or do the Demon dudes here have sadistically bigger loads then us Humans?'_ Jack pondered to himself, feeling a little emasculated.

"So, did you have fun?" Cyraxo asked, getting as much as she could off of her.

"Looks like you did." He smirked.

"Huh?" She asked.

Jack glanced down at her, her face was Naïve, and slightly confused. "Wait, you mean you didn't know what you did with that guy?" HE said, stopping in the middle of the street.

"Uh, isn't it a game?" She asked. Scratching the back of her head. In confusion, her violet eyes stared up at Jack.

He sighed; he really didn't want to explain the birds and the bees to Cyraxo. Hard to believe she was that old and didn't know.

"You know what sex is, right?" He asked.

"Kinda, I know that it's what you need to do to make babies. And that I have the babies..." Cyraxo said quietly. Shuffling her legs uncomfortably. And looking down at the dirt street.

"Do you know _how_ you have sex?" Jack continued, folding his arms.

"N-not…Really…" She murmured.

Jack sighed tiredly. He was going to be blunt, and if it was awkward for her, then so be it. "Listen, that stuff that guy got all over you is called cum, it's a slang term. So I won't bother using the real term. A guy and girl have sex, and his dick, the red rod you were pumping, is put in your pussy, also slang term. And he humps the girl till that stuff comes out in her, and bang, bunch of babies some time later. People do this all the time, but what he was doing to you was downright sick." Jack scowled; he glanced at her beet red face. "What? I'm blunt, ok?" He sighed.

"He…I…His…" She stammered, trying to find the right words.

"Why did you even let him do that to you in the first place, it doesn't take an idiot to know that that's plain disrespect to a woman." Jack asked.

"I…I just like to be touched… people stay away from me whenever I go near them…" She whimpers, her head is downcast, and her white hair fell over her eyes.

"Huh?"

"I'm a freak." She shouted.

"How are you-"He never finished his sentence, she glared up at him and flared her wings outwards.

"Because of these!" She shouts. "No Shadow Demon Has Wings! Or white hair!" She growls, and then the growl turns into a slow whimper, as she falls to her knees, shaking. She clutches her arms as the shiver.

Jack stares down at her, the realization came to him.

She was lonely.

She lived alone all her life, an outcast. Just because of some dumb hair, and stupid wings.

She just wants to be touched, to be held or noticed, even if that meant just being used as a tool to get off on.

He felt sick, but a sick that was made from pity, and empathy.

Empathy for her. Cyraxo.

"Hey, hey… C'mon bud, don't you cry on me like that, I'm here for you." Jack slowly bent down and picked the now sobbing girl in his gentle arms. Cradling her like a baby. She curled up into a ball, her wings pressed against her back she turned her head and cried into his chest. He let her. He looked ahead, and walked down the road.

Back out into the Outer Circle.

Back out into hell.

Just him and his Companion, he now knew that he needed her as much as she needed him.

There are still many things they have yet to learn about each other.

Jack, the multi personalitied Soldier, a dark family past, and an unclear and murky future. Lost on his road through Death, Lost and Lonely.

Cyraxo, the Lonely, Clingy Demoness, a freak and outcast among Demons, willing to do anything anyone asks, her, submissive and with a low self esteem, but blessed with untapped raw power. And a bloody past full of tears.

Together they will mend their wounds with needle and thread, a painful process of the dead. Friends will join them on their journey; a war is brewing in the northern winds. Drum beats stir the morning air, as the dawn soon breaks and the clouded sun rises. And with it, the trio emerges from their sleep. To return to the world of the walking. And set foot on a journey that will take them to the ends of the earth and back once more.

….End Chapter Five….


	6. Sacred Bond

….Chapter Six…

Sacred Bond.

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The two lonely, and unlikely, friends stumbled back into the old shack, Jack still carried the shaking Demoness. When he looked up at the ladder, and then back down at his humble companion, he sighed and climbed with only one hand.

"Here you go…" He said, laying her down on her mattress. "I'm going to go out for a bit ok? I'll be outside if you need me." He said, patting her head, her eyes were shut, but she nodded blindly to him. The fur on her cheeks was stained with tears. He didn't know what she was so upset about. Maybe it was something he said?

He climbed down the old ladder and stepped outside and upholstered his side arm, his Tarus .45 caliber revolver.

Spinning the chamber he checked the ammunition, full to the brim.

He saw a far tree about 250 yards downrange in the swamp, he got into a weaver stance, and held the pistol in a firm grip, resting the hand that held it around the grip on the palm of the other hand.

He aimed down the iron sights. Two in the back near the hammer, and one in the front, all three had green neon dots on them like a USP-40.

He pulled the trigger and loosened his arm to take in the recoil, slacking his wrist slightly. The Tarus bucked in his hands, the mini hand-cannon though obeyed his trained hands and smoothly recoiled up but swung back down to aim at the tree.

A hole about the size of a golf ball was in the center of the said tree, it shook slightly from the new generation gun, and bullet, upgraded over the years, deadlier and more precise then its ancestors made mincemeat out of the feeble wood.

He continued to fire off rounds until the modified rounds nearly cut the tree in half. Soon he decided to save his ammo for some other time, and he stowed his pistol. There was not much to do now that he had finished target practice.

"*Sigh* now I need a drink." He grumbled, he walked to the side of the house and sat down, leaning his back against it.

He stared up at the sky, he felt a slight drizzle meet his face, it would rain soon again.

"Wonder if the sun's ever out…" he sighed.

"Nope. Never." Cyraxos' voice echoed from the doorway. He glanced up at her, she was naked again.

"Oh, hey. You are one sneaky little girl you know that?" He smiled; he was rewarded with one of her sunny giggles. Finally, the refreshing cock eyed optimist he knew was her old self again. No more tears, for now.

"You ok?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm better now… i… I just needed that." She sighed.

"Hey, nothing to worry about, we all need a good cry now and then." Jack nodded, he knew that rule well.

"Jack…" Cyraxo sat down next to him, and leaned on him slightly.

"Yeah Cy?"

"Back at the town… When we were leaving…" She looked down slightly. "You said not to let them treat me like trash… What did that mean?" She asked him with her voice barely above a whisper, her downcast eyes threatened to shed tears once more.

Jack took a breath and thought back to that moment, he looked down at his Demoness. A small grown on his face. The start of a beard was on his chin.

"Cyraxo… some guys just want to use women to get off on… he was one of them, listen, I know your lonely, and you have a messed up past from the looks of it, hopefully you'll tell me sometime soon and I can help. But, you don't need to be a sex slave to everyone you meet…" He told her, putting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. He tried to smile at her, but the subject was too depressing for that.

"Jack… You don't get it…" She said her voice breaking. "I have _WINGS_. Shadow Demons do NOT, have wings! Only fire and wind demons do… I'm an outcast! I ruined everything for my family!" She cried. Her tail lashed dangerously at her side.

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down! Cyraxo, maybe you should explain this to me more…" Jack suggested, shaking his friend on the shoulder a bit to get her to calm down.

She brushed some of her white hair out of the way of her eyes and looked up at him, wiping away a tear. "O…k…" She whimpered.

Jack gave her his full attention, and she began to tell her tale.

"When…When I was born… I was the youngest of my two siblings, my brother and sister. Ryvex and Orisaf. Ryvex is a fire demon, Orisaf is a Water demon, my mom and dad was a water and fire demon. But then I was born. My mom, a fire demon, cheated on my dad with a shadow demon. And I was born, I was all wrong. My egg was damaged when my dad found out, I was already screwed up with the wings, but the fact that I was a tainted child because my mom was unfaithful didn't help my case either. She was banished to this ring with my brother and sister. I hatched, but I was soon abandoned. Just another mouth to feed, a runt's mouth that is. I was smaller than most demons that are born. I was weak, dependant, a coward… the worst of both demon types really. I wasn't worth the cost. But also, I got attention drawn to my family. They were disrespected, my mom for having me, and my brother and sister just because. We were banished and exiled from Hell. My mom left them and to this day they both blame me. It wasn't like I _wanted_ to be born that way… tch, jerks. But to this day we don't know what happened to her. Ryvex managed to get back into hell, same with Orisaf. They went into Training. Became warrior Demons, best of their elements. They think there so great, but I'm the fastest Demon in, or out of Hell." Cyraxo sighs. But smirks at the fact that her speed is self proclaimed, unrivaled.

Jack stares at her. "That's horrible…" But the shocking reality was the fact that her story was so much like his.

She then looks up at him. "Your turn.

"Wha?"

"I told you my story, now for yours." She demanded passively.

"Fine." She got him there. Trapped. "Where to begin…" he thought back to the early days.

"My mom was raped by some asshole, and my dad was murdered. When I was born she killed herself out of shame, by two brothers and sister hated me, they blamed me because they had no one else to blame, that, and there world class whores. Tortured me for all my life, I fought back eventually, and I then joined the CSA, but so did they. Ended up in the same squad. God must've really hated me. And I got killed, and now I'm here… that's it really." Jack sighed. He wasn't telling all of it.

"Oh my god…" Cyraxo scooted closer to him and hugged him. "My sibling's barley pay attention to me, but to have them torture you day after day… that must be horrible!" She gasps.

"Well that parts over now. So I'm good. I like it here actually." He grins.

"Yeah… well, we do have each other, I guess…" She smiles.

"Yeah." Jack smiles honestly for the first time in a while. "Yeah…We do."

They May have found solstice in there company, and refuge in there iron bound friendship. But in the coming days, it'll be strained to the limits; war is coming, in all its horror, and all its pain. Will they survive? Or will they fall into the deeps of despair.

….End Chapter Six…


	7. Big Blue Demon

Chapter Seven.

Big Blue Bastard.

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It was night time in the Cyraxo residence, the black curtain was drawn over the sky. But inside the small house made out of wood and metal, a dim light shines through the window in the lower section of the house.

"Four aces, that makes five for me!" George, the cocky marine, lays down his cards on the small round table. The three close friends were enjoying a night together playing cards and telling old stories.

"Damnit! You win again!" Jack swore. Slapping his losing hand down on the table. "I swear! Nobody should be this good at cards!" He insists, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"I still don't know how to play! But its fun watching you two! Jack makes funny faces when he loses!"" Cyraxo says, she then turns to George "Hey, George, have you ever been in Hell? She asks.

George leans back in his seat and smiles. He enjoyed there company, it was something new in his routine, and the fact that he's nearly 3 centuries old meant it got _VERY_ lonely down in the outer circle.

"Nope, never. Not even once. But I think I can go in now that the big bad Queen of darkness; Clezka is dead." He smirks.

"Who?" Jack asks.

George looks a little surprised, but then he remembers that he was new here. "Oh, that's right; Clezka was the queen of Hell. The Ruler of the Evil underworld was killed during the Great Holy War." George calmly tells them, like it was yesterday's news.

"Wait… What's' the 'Great Holy War?" Jack asks incredulously.

George looks up at Jack and thinks for a moment, he takes his beer out of his pocket and takes a sip preparing himself for a long tale. "Let me tell you guys they story. Loooong before you two were born. And way back before the 1900's, a war was going on between Heaven and Hell. Raging on far away planets and sometimes even on earth. Many of the worlds's most remembered natural, and sometimes material, disasters were caused by large numbers of demons and angels duking it out; Katrina, BP, Exxon oil spill, Haiti, 2857 Japan fracture, collapse of the Eiffel tower. The black week of Germany, the red sky's of fire in Russia in 3848-3850. Half the country burned just because a large number of fire demons, and fire angels were so insistent of taking that land. And the worst, 4185's Chinas clouded summer. Lightning storms all over the city causing fire to spew up everywhere, everything was burnt or fired when the wind demons and wind angels, and fire elements brawled." George leans back in his seat. "But the fighting also took place in Heaven and Hell. Both the gods died. Releiniu The mother of Heaven and Clezka The mother of Hell died in the fighting. Both domains are in chaos. Gods don't come back to life, there not meant to go fight, only one is supposed to prevail, both aren't supposed to die." George shakes his head. "Luckily Death helps coordinate things. Souls get sent to the proper places, but nothing much happens torture wise down here." George chuckles, taking another sip of his drink.

"So the big cheese of hell is dead? How did that happen?" Jack asks, suddenly concerned a little at the thought of millions upon billions of anarchy crazed demons everywhere around him.

"Like I said before, the big war was fought all over," George Explains. "Most of the damage down here was done by angels fighting with demons. And at the same time up in heaven demons were smashing and bashing the angels. Both sides were to focus on attack, that they didn't have any adequate defenses." George tells them. Jack looks out the window at the ruined landscape in the horizon. Maybe it'll happen again. "The Demons didn't really have an organized army; the only ones in it were wind, water, and shadow demons. Fire and earth were too brash and easily enraged. The Angels were much better organized. It took a lot to down just a few of them, hell, when a few tried to mess with me during the invasion of the Outer Circle; I went all Al'cpone on their asses with my baby." He smirked, holding up his Tommy gun. But then his smirk turned into a solemn, distant look. "What disturbed me the most was how many young angels and demons were used? So many dead children. The angels I killed didn't stand a chance against me; they only had swords, lances, and bows."

George swept his arm in front of him. "They charged me and I just sprayed them with one quick burst, and bam." He snapped his fingers. "Down they went. Tore up their wings with .45 calibers, crippled their legs with 308's, tore holes in their heads with my colt, blew them apart with frags and landmines…" George hung his head into his hands. "I didn't even try to fight, I just did. I think around 60 fell at my hand that day. They turned around once the leader was ripped apart by a few fire Demons…" He sighed.

He looked back up at Jack. "I'm rambling aren't I?" Jack Nodded. "Sorry, to answer your question, Angels managed to get into Hells gates no problem. Big Ol' Cerb couldn't get them when they flew to high for him. Found the ol' queen and filled her with arrows and hit her with any magic they knew. Wasn't too long until she keeled over and died. Hell I saw it happen, I was up on the mountain, and they were fighting all over the place, chasing demons every which way and that." George's pleasantly cocky attitude returned, and lightened up the room, he snickered. "I was sorta glad to see the bitch die. Things sucked pretty bad with her. But now that I think about it not much has changed." He then took another sip of his whisky, and looked skyward. "But up in heaven I think a bunch of shadow demons stormed the place by force and tore the heaven queen to shreds. Shadow Demons aren't too common. But there pretty nasty when you get them angry at you. Not only that, there shadow magic is very effective against Angels, which makes them quite feared among them."

"So if no ones in charge and anyone can leave at any time, why don't they?" Jack inquires, leaning forward on the small table.

George thinks for a moment. "Good question, the portals are open all the time. And without Clezka alive nothings stopping the demons and Dammed from leaving. But knowing how demons aren't popular on the planets, it makes sense knowing that a bunch of religious nut jobs up there along with angels still on the planets, and guns, I think they would prefer to play it safe and hang out in hell." Jack sees his point, most humans and Cyrons liked angels better then demons.

Hell spawned raping killer monster, or virtuous, beautiful kind warrior of the light, you decided.

Seeing that Jack had many more questions, George held up one hand to stop the onslaught of words before they sprang forth from Jacks mouth. George reached into his sack and pulled out an old looking hard cover black book that looked like a large journal, with a few hundred pages, some with slips of paper sticking out to mark points of interest in the book. He handed it to Jack, who took it in his hands and looked up at George with a confused look.

"That's a field journal. Tells you everything you need to know about Hell. Not much on Heaven and the Angels. But it'll tell you everything you need to know about Hell and its resident Demons. Made it myself, finished it recently and took the time to update some stuff when you came around, since you looked greener then a neon sign in Vegas, you did." George teases.

Jack smirks and flips through the book a few pages at a time. "Thanks, I'll be sure to read this, it'll be good to know what exactly is trying to tear me limb from limb." He jokes.

'Knock, Knock' "Yo! Cyrax'! Open the hell up!" A gruff, stern voice shouted from outside, followed by a fist banging impatiently on the flimsy metal door to the shack.

"The hell-?" Jack said, whirling around, slightly startled by the sudden interruption to their game.

Cyraxo rolled her eyes and stood up from her seat. "That's my older brother, Orisaf. Probably wants to know where Ryvex is. They've been talking to each other a lot more over the past couple of months." Cyraxo explains.

She walks over to the door and opens it. She steps aside as a tall blue Demon steps inside.

He was big. That was clear, standing around 7 feet tall and with a long blue jaguar tail that swept the floor behind him as he walked inside. He had short black hair that hung over his face, and two coyote like ears that protruded out of the hair, and angled back slightly, the left one had five earrings on it. The other, was slightly ripped at the top. He had a short snout, two fangs curved down from his upper lip. He wore a plain white T-shirt and torn up blue jeans and his feet wore nothing except his fur. Around his waist was a blue piece of cloth wrapped around his torso like a belt, the end of it hung off to the side. Long talons curved off his four toes. His hands had four fingers including the thumb, long nasty Claws, around 5 or 6 inches long, they were sharp and most likely used before. Jack didn't even think he and George together could take this demon down in hand to hand. His eyes were a piercing shade of topaz blue; his fur was a darker shade of Sapphire, with even darker strips running down his back horizontally. His build was sleek, but athletic and like a stand up fighters build, or a street brawler, he looked around the age of 28, older then Jack. Not only that, he was Cyraxos Older Brother…

"Hey Orisaf! How are you?" Cyraxo greeted happily. But instead of a kindly reply, she got a snub in the face.

He walked right past her, and locked eyes over at the table. "You two. Have you seen a fire demon named Ryvex stop by here?" he asked them menacingly.

Jack just shook his head nervously. George did the same but with purpose, and no fear, in fact he had a little spite in his eyes.

"No we haven't. Now get lost blueberry. George spat.

"Excuse ME?" Orisaf growled, glaring at George. "What did you say?" Jack took this opportunity to scoot his chair away from the impending brawl.

George stood up and slammed his helmet back on, which he took off earlier. "You heard me, _fishdick_." George continued to bait the Water Demon, Jack thought he was insane.

"You gota death wish, punk?" Orisaf hissed, bearing his teeth.

George smirked. "If I did I'd be insulting somebody who has balls."

This was the last straw; The Water Element let out an infuriated roar and charged the poor WWII Soldier…

… Who just stepped to the left and stuck out his right leg as Orisaf charged past…

…Tripping the Demon!

…And sending him straight into Jack…

"OWFUCK!" Jack screamed as the fright-train of a demon smashed into him.

"Oops Sorry man, didn't know you were there…" George replied sheepishly, but this didn't stop him from lighting up another cigarette.

…

After Orisaf left in a state that can only be described as 'Unhealthily angry' George sat down at the table with the rest. "Now that woke me up!" He laughed.

"Yeah…It did." Jack pouted, holding his left arm tenderly.

"Yeah… Sorry about your arm, didn't mean for him to fall on you and dislocate it, but hey! It's all better now!" George tried to cheer him up.

"Whatever…" Jack sighed, looking out the window.

"How'd you do that?" Cyraxo said, voice filled with amazement, George looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do what?" He asked.

"You just totally tripped Orisaf! He didn't even try to grab you as he fell!"

"Oh!" George nodded, understanding what she meant now. "That's simple; Orisaf was hydro-demon, right?" Cyraxo nodded. "He's meant for places with water, ice, or snow. He was on dry land up here. I would never have pissed off that egotistical basterd like that up in the mountains or down in the swamp and for a good reason too." George sighed.

He puffed out a smoke ring before he told them. "You see, Water demons are like ships… there graceful and powerful on the water, they can move and fire at the same time. But when on the land, that's another story." He spilled a drop of whisky on the table, Jacks heart almost broke when he saw the poor liquid hit the table, undrinkable. George ran a finger through it. "As you can see my finger moves easily through the whisky, like a water demon moves through water. But on land…" He traces another finger, a dry one over the hard, wood table, and it resists. "This finger has trouble. Now replace my finger with a water Demon, and you get the picture. They can't move quickly on land, and they can't attack as quickly either, but you still don't want to get close to them all the same. There strong as fuck. But on the water there the toughest things you'll ever face… there ice and water magic will crush you." George says with no emotion, it was obvious that Water Demons were among the strongest demons in Hell.

"What about Water Angels?" Jack then asks.

George shivered. "Angels are the best Magic users ever. With the exception of Wind Demons that is… There not hindered to terrain elements like Demons, well, slightly, but it's not as drastic to them as it is for Demons." He sighs. "And not only that, they can all fly… Demons could only take them down if they had enough numbers. Only fire and Shadow Demons could go up against a Demon in 1 on 1 combat." George sighed.

"Shit… how did the Demons even stand a chance?" Jack whistles.

"Numbers." George says quickly. "There used to be more Demons then angels, all of them trained, and selective mating let there be more fire and wind demons then the rest."

"I see…"

"Well. It's getting late you two, I should go. I'll see ya all again sometime, K?" George says, saluting briefly, he walks out the door.

…

Later that night…

The two companions climbed up the ladder to their beds. Lying down on their backs they stare up at the ceiling.

"Hey Jack?" Cyraxo said, looking over at her dead Human friend.

"Yeah Cyro?" Jack looked over at her, using the nick name he gave her.

"What's the living realm like?" She asks. Her Violet eyes stared at him in the darkness.

Jack sighed. And looked back up at the ceiling. "It's… Well…" He couldn't lie to her; he couldn't say that it was a place full of assholes like he wanted to.

"It's beautiful… space travel, the planets. The jade green skies of Nerocyon-4, the crystal mountains of Groan-7, and… and… and then there's my home planet… Kevlar-27… simple little towns here and there… blue skies, clear waters, miles of forest… towering mountains, snowy plains… kinda rural, don't see much technology there… _VERY_ Religious folk, but… it's a 3rd world planet in all reality… wish I saw it one last time…" He sighed.

"I wish I could see it for the very first time…" Cyraxo said, she was trying to picture it all in her head. But half the stuff he told her about she never even saw before.

"I wish you could see it too…" Jack admitted. "But who knows? Anything can be possible." He smiled over at her.

Little did he know those last few words rang all to true in the coming days.

…End Chapter Seven…


	8. The Gaurdian

Chapter Eight: Banned from hell.

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Jack was out on an early morning stroll. Cyraxo was still up in the shack, asleep, and he decided not to wake her. He left her a note on his mattress, telling her he would be out for a while, and that he would be back before lunch.

He was walking along the northern mountain range, on the eastern side of it, walking along the great barren plains with sparse grasses and tree's, and as always, the sky was grey and overcast.

"Is the sky ever clear here?" he asked himself, glancing up at the grey blanket that covered the wastes.

A light rain began to fall on his helmet, he frowned, and sighed. "Guess I'll take that as a no."

As he walked further the once slightly grassy area turned into hard, rocky, earth. Cracks in the ground along with massive boulders signified him nearing the bridge to Hell.

"Hey, there's the bridge." He spoke to himself, in the distance a long and wide wooden bridge spanned across a wide canyon, that didn't seem to have a bottom at all, and went down for miles.

He tried not to look down as he neared the edge of the canyon, near the bridge. "Jesus… no wonder this is the only way across…" He whistled. This part was the only narrow part in the whole canyon. This part alone was only 57ft wide, while the other parts were nearly 5 miles wide in some areas.

As he looked across the gorge, he saw that on the other side far, far, far, away in the distance was a giant gate with solid obsidian black walls lining it, like the Great Wall of China except bigger, longer, wider, thicker, and harder. (That's what she said ^.^)

Spikes jetted out like guard towers on the wall itself, it was hard to see from here even, but the fact that one could even see it at all was impressive.

"I wonder…" Curiosity got the best of Jack, and he stepped carefully onto the rope bridge, and began to cross at a brisk pace, keeping a watchful eye out for any sneaky demons trying to sneak up on him, or preparing to ambush him.

He crossed to the other side, and wandered towards the gates of hell, within minutes of a brisk jog, he reached the gates and no apparent ambush… though…

An ambush of course, was the exact thing that happened to him.

"**WHO DARES TRESPASS FROM THE FORSAKEN CIRCLE?" ** A booming voice of thunder and rage nocks Jack off his feet and he stumbles and falls flat on his ass, ears ringing, a slight beeping sound in his ears.

He shook his head to clear his racing mind and he searched for the origin of the voice.

He stared at the gates of hell. Something he didn't see before melted away from the shadows of the wall.

"**WHO STANDS BEFORE THE GATES OF HELL! SPEAK!"** A giant, three headed dog, a Giant three headed savage German shepherd. Standing 35ft tall fur; darker then the blackest night, eyes, redder then the hottest ember, teeth; sharper then the coldest knife, and rage, hotter than the soul of the universe.

This was indisputably, Cerberus.

The guardian Devil Dog of hell.

Jack felt his blood freeze as the three heads locked there inferno of eyes onto him, his had grown roots to the ground and his head had sprouted leaves, never before had he felt such _perfect_, _pure,_ fear. The time he and his patrol was ambushed by giant lizard like 20ft tall raptors on Gendar-2, he felt fear, but it was an adrenalin fueled fear, he had support and other people watching his back that time.

This time, he was alone with a 30ft three headed Hell Dog.

They don't teach you how to deal with this kinda shit in Boot Camp! Fuck it isn't even written in the fucking BOOKS!

The three headed dogs; burning, soulless eyes locked onto poor Jack, Weapon Hapless, courage taking the next flight to "See-ya-later-fucko" land.

"…um… Hi?" Jack Struggled to force the words out of his mouth. You could say this was one of the things he has on his DO NOT FUCKING DO list. And right now, that list is somewhere in a pile of triple shredded paper that went through a chainsaw/flamethrower festival with an airdropped supply of cocaine and red-bull.

The list? It doesn't even EXIST anymore.

The three pairs of neon red eyes narrowed and glared axes at Jack. Daggers didn't add up in this scenario.

"**WHO STANDS BEFORE US!" **The giant three headed guardian of the gates of bellowed.

"Ah, Uhhh… J-Jack? Jack Conner?" The frightened CSA Marine whimpered.

"**WHY DOES JACK, CONNER, STAND BEFORE THE GATES OF HELL, WHEN HE HAILS FROM THE BARREN LANDS!"** The Dog bellows.

"Uhhh….What?" Jack said, confused.

"**THE BANISHED REALM! THE OUTCAST'S RESIDE! THE LAND OF NO TITLE! THE OUTER CIRCLE!"** The three headed beast bellowed, all three heads in unison.

"Oh… yeah…" Jack cowered.

"**SPEAK! ANSWER OUR QUESTION!" ** Cerberus bellowed.

"I-I Was just wondering what hell was like! I wanted to take a look around okay!" Jack said, taking a hesitant step back

"**WELL YOU SHANT! ONES THAT HAIL FROM THE OUTCAST'S CIRCLE ARE NOT WELCOME IN HELL! LEAVE THIS PLACE SCUM!**"The monstrous dog bellowed growling down at the terrified soldier.

Jack did a 180 and sped back over the bridge, his legs were a blur as he sped across it and then across the barren wastes.

"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" Jack repeated over and over inside of his head, the words though did slip out of his mouth now and then.

…

Soon, Jack had sprinted his way across the Barren wastes of the north, and into the dying grassy planes of the south.

Jacks legs were like jelly as he fell to his knees, hands on his things, he panted heavily.

"What…The…Fucking…Hell…" he gasped. The sudden realization washed over him.

He glanced skywards, the day was dying, he looked back down and forwards to the land ahead, the marshy swamp lies ahead of him.

He stood up once more and stretched slightly, he began to walk at a slow pace.

"Guess I should get back… Don't want to get Cyro all worried over me…" Jack sighs as he recounts' what the guardian of hell said to him.

Outcasts…

Banned…

Un-welcome…

Even in hell, he is not welcome.

….

End Chapter Eight.


	9. Accend

Chapter: The Escape.

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Explosions all around.

Lights in the sky.

Strange winged figures whose bodies burned with unnatural light.

The bodies of the same, and demons, strewn everywhere.

Chaos.

Havoc.

Madness-(!).

Insanity.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

All around the two fleeing figures, running from Demons from Hell, and Angles from Heaven. Both sides used the Outer Circle as the staging ground for the fight. No resident of the forsaken and banished lands were spared.

"C'mon Cyro! We got to keep moving!" Jack instead, the young Demoness was bleeding heavily from her right shoulder, a wound she suffered from the holy warriors blade, though vengeance was struck down upon the same when Jack retaliated with five shots from his magnum placed into the Angels chest.

The large holes that lay in its body weep blood onto the barren landscape in the distance.

"Uggnnn…Jack…I can't…i…C-can't go on…it, it hurts so bad…it burns…" Cyraxo began to break down into sobs, the seemingly small, but deep cut on her arm seemed simple and painless, but on closer inspection, the fur was slightly singed at the impact point, and the flesh was seared.

Holy weaponry…

It affected beings of sin heavily… a simple wound to a resident of the underworld from an arrow or sword held by an Angel would do twice as much damage…

"Shit!" Jack said worriedly. But he couldn't stop now, he had to keep going, he had to keep moving, there escape depended on it…

They were only a few minutes away from the bridge, Cerberus would be gone in hell fighting the angels, instead of guarding the gate, this was their only chance.

"Cyraxo! Please! Bear with me, you have to keep moving, you promised Death you would follow through!" Jack said, pulling the kneeling Demoness to her feet, and pulling her along.

"O-ok…" She gulped, as she shakily was pulled along by the CSA Marine.

"More of the Demon scum! Get them!"

"Shit!" Jack shot his eyes upwards a group of three angels in green robes dive bombed them with their white wings spread wide and flaming halos burning brightly.

A lone arrow shot forth and struck Jack in the chest, he stumbled backwards but his armor that was meant to repel bullets did what it was made to do, and easily repelled the Arrow.

"Hah! Thank you Manticore!" He shouted cockily, thanking the name of the armor manufacturer, he raised his M416 and let forth a stream of bullets on full auto, two fell but one managed to avoid the fire, and notch another arrow with a golden tip.

Jack didn't give it a chance to even pull the string back.

He riddled its stomach with 7.62MM rounds, tearing its flesh apart, its mouth hung open loosely as it felt to the ground, dead before it even hit it.

Jack admired his grim handy-work before grabbing Cyraxo's arm and pulling her along once more.

…

The bridge was easily crossed, little resistance met them.

Jack felt the furred demon vixen hand slip from his gloved war raged hand.

"J…Jack. I…I-I can't… go on…" Jack whirled around, and to his horror he saw Cyraxo on the dirt ground at the end of the bridge on the side of hell, the opposite side being the Outer circle.

Jack rushed back to her, she was lying on her side, blood oozed out of the poisoned cut the damn Angel caused.

"Cy! Don't do this to me! C'mon! WE have to keep going were almost there, Please! I can't carry yo any further! Please!" He begged he made a promise to death; he _would NOT_ go back on it.

"There's more of them! Eat those scum bags hearts!" Savage demon voiced echoed in the distance, Jack spun around to face the gate, and from the direction of the gate a large group of demons charged them, huge hulking Earth demons, and the smaller nimble fire demons.

Jack counted around three dozen in total, he pulled back the breach on his gun and readied it, he flicked it to full auto, and let loose a blind spray and pray on the group a few fire demons fell, but the large Earth demons just flinched as the bullets smacked into their thick hide.

They grew nearer still…

"Cyraxo please stand up!" Jack begged, shaking her shoulder, she moaned in protest.

"GRAAAH!" The first earth demon was upon him, it swung arm into his side and sent the marine flying to the left, he hit the ground and skidded to a halt, and he rolled onto his back and looked in horror as the 13ft tall mammoth prepared to smash the hapless Shadow Demoness…

"**PANGGGGGG!"**

What can only be described as a gift from the gods, that is, if their gifts come in the form of a 308 FMJ Nato round going through the cranium of a 13ft earth demon covered in ragged brown fur and curling ram horns…

But yes, they said caliber bullet popped the demons head like a grape between two fingers, and the Pangs again sounded throughout the wastes, as three more heads pooped two more gun shots sounded as ones throat was torn in half while the other one got a large hole In the center of its chest.

"Wha…" The demons continued to fall one by one in rapid succession, Jack had already stopped the Fire demons early on, but now the Earth demons were being raped by an unseen foe.

The demons were pushed into an eternal abyss, the darkness which everything strives to vainly avoid. Death claimed their souls.

Jack looked around sweeping his gun to the left and right franticly, but then, a shining beacon of hope, a god send, made itself known.

"The hell you two green horns doin out here in a time like this? Nearly popped you one myself till I saw your face!" George.

"GEORGE! Oh thank god!" Jack cried, as George clambered down from a high ledge near the cliffs they passed through.

"Don't thank me just yet, I wanna know what the hell you doin out here in Hell. No one in his our her's right minds comes over that bridge, the Demons in this fucked up hole don't take to kindly to people likes you and me, and even her." The Grizzled old Marine said, walking up to them, rubbing his slight beard with one hand, in the other was his M-1 Garand, barrel slightly smoking.

"It's a long story, I swear I'll tell it to you later, but can you help us? Cyrax is hurt bad, is there anything you can do, we don't have much time!" Jack pleads.

George was a tapered soul, over the years his edges were worn down, long ago he would demand answers first, but as he gazed upon the Dying young Demoness, who has done nay to nothing to deserve such a painful wound, he sighed. "Sure, I can help her, but you best be telling me what the hell's you two doin out here after." George deals, Jack agrees quickly.

George bends down to the dying vixen like Demon. And he reaches into his pack with an ancient wisdom. As he rummages around in the sack, Cyraxo becomes aware of the kind soul's presence.

"G…George…?" She manages to breath.

George laid a hand on her forehead and stares into her eyes peacefully, he stares with eyes that glowed with eons of knowledge, packed into the body of a Warrior of Old, a Spartan, a Hero, a Marine. A United States Marine. "Easy there girl, you're gona e just fine, little ol' Gerogy here is gona fix you up right and fine now, you hear?" He promises, he removes a black vile of disgusting liquid, dirty water it seemed, out of the bag, and he takes a quick glance at her cut.

"Yeah, this'll have her up and at them in no time." He takes the cork out of the top of the bottle, and tips it over her cut, the black water splashes over the wound, and it steams.

"Ow!" she yelps in pain.

"Easy, easy, it'll be fine in a second there little lady." George promises, and soon enough, the sickly glow fades, and it is now just a small cut that will heal quickly over time.

"What the…" Jack gasped shakily, the fatigue and grandeur of what they were attempting to do began to set in.

"They wash their weapons in holy oil's; water from the Styx will negate the affects of the oil if it gets on a dammed being." George explains calmly. He then looks up accusingly at Jack, "Now, my answers please?"

Jack helped Cyraxo to her feet; she was beginning to come back to her sense now. "Yes, right…" Jack nods. He begins to walk towards the gate, helping Cyraxo along, George follows close behind. Tommy Gun out and ready.

"Well you see, it all started right when the haloed freaks begin falling from the sky from some weird vortexes and shit." Jack says, pointing up at the sky, at the continuing onslaught, endless waves of small beads of light, the angels, sweeping down into Hell. The sounds of battle could be heard from afar.

"The True Gates." George said. "That's what they're called; they link all the worlds together." George tells him.

"Right, Whatever, and so… Death comes along to our place and tells us that we have to leave. So he tells us to go into hell and go to the spire, and within it we find a 'True Gate' and just go through it. And after that he left." Jack told George their current mission. Hurrying his pace, as they walked through the gates of hell.

"So you're trying to escape hell, eh?" George grinned wildly at them. "Count me in." He said cockily.

"Wha-?" Jack said looking at him in surprise.

"C'mon man. Think about it, it's a win-win either way for both of us. I know a shit load about Hell and demons, I'm god with a gun and I got training, so I can help you guys out of the inevitable trouble you'll get yourself into. And, I get to leave hell!" George exclaims happily. His optimistic mood brightened Jack and Cyraxos spirits slightly. Cyraxo even gave a slight smile at his upbeat-ness.

"Well I'm certainly not going to stop you. Another face in this motley crew." Jack sighed, and they stepped into hell.

It was nothing like the outer circle.

NOTHING.

LIKE.

IT.

For instance, the river of lava, the shriveled tree's, the tall black metal buildings spread out randomly in places, and on top of each building, there was a spike that shot up into the sky, and people of all sorts were skewered on it, screaming their internal pain, as there naked bodies were washed with red.

Strange creatures with arms of squids with dagger lined suction cups and bulging eyes on a single spherical body ripped the flesh off of damned souls, and brought the torn flesh into a single mouth on the top of its head, a small hole lined with sharks' teeth.

And as for most of the damned women and females, Cyrons and humans alike…

They had 'special' tortures for them. Displayed in public and harangued with humiliation and helplessness.

As they took it all in. they just then remembered they were not supposed to be there.

And so did the rightful owners of Hell.

"Hey! How did they get in!" One demon shouted, from its perch on a towering building.

"Uh, through the front door." George jerked his thumb behind them at the large doors, wide open and somewhat inviting.

"Oh, well… You're still screwed." The same winged demon with a long green neck and burning eyes shouted, slightly bewildered by the fact that he did not see the open gates.

The same demon leapt off its perch screeching wildly, alerting nearby demons to the scene.

"To the left!" Jack shouted, slamming his trigger madly on his gun, sending 7.62 high velocity lead rounds into the face of a large earth demon that resembled an Ox.

"Already there!" George shouted Twisting around to face a group of three Fire demons with fiery red fur and curling black horns rushing at them claws raised high and small red curls of flame licked out from there nostrils.

George greeted them with a burst of fire from his SMG, the .45 caliber bullets slammed into their chests, sending them back down to the hard cracked ground, so long deprived of water.

"Mmhph…" Cyraxo stumbled away from Jack, to preoccupied to notice the sudden loss of her weight on his shoulders, as a pesky wind demon dove at him from above, and his efforts to bat it with his fist or rifle put were proving futile.

"Eat thisss!" The wind demon cackled, raising its hands above its head, blue sparks jumped from each palm and suddenly a sphere of energy was shot at Jack.

"Shit!" He dove to the right as the lightning struck the ground and spider webbed out, a few arks of the lightning struck his rifle, being metal and a good conductor.

"HRRRGGGGGZZ!" Jack stiffened as the bolts of electricity racked his body, his arms spammed and his rifle fell from his grasp but not of out of reach, the strap kept in on his chest.

The wind demon laughed evilly and swooped at the stunned jack, who lay on the ground unable to move, paralyzed from the shoulders down, though his legs could move slightly, his arms were too badly shocked.

Cyraxo looked on as Jack was about to be ripped to shreds by the green and black winged demon she felt scared and small, like a dog too long abused, or a kitten without its mother.

"Not today meat sack!" George shouted, and a black object was thrown through the air.

George's Colt.

The small black WWII Era pistol, the .45 caliber handgun was being used as a projectile, and not its main purpose, to shoot projectiles.

But no one would complain after the pistol cart wheeled through the air like a tomahawk and the steel grip smacked into the skull of the wind demon, being part avian, it had slightly less dense bones, and the strong pitching arm of George and the heavy metal pistol shattered the demons skull.

The demon flinched once and fell to the ground next to Jack, who began to regain his movement.

As Jack scrambled to his feet and stared down at the wrecked face of the demon, he picked up the bloody pistol that lay beside it; he glanced at it once and then gave it back to its owner. "Why'd you throw it? Not that I'm not grateful…" Jack asked he helped Cyraxo to her feet; it seemed that they had a moment of peace before moving on.

"Clip empty, didn't have the time to reload," George grinned; he twirled his colt once and then slammed it back into its holster.

Jack let out a shaky breath, the near maiming had him fully awake by now, "Well let's keep moving guys; we don't have much time before the rest of hell is on our asses."

The trio rushed off to the giant spire towering in the hellish sky, if you stacked the space needle on top of the ifel tower which was on top of the empire state building, it would be that tall. At the top was a large flat base that expanded outwards, a giant plat being balanced on the giant pole in a impressive balancing act.

Lights could be seen dancing at the top, back and forth they went with arks of energy occasionally beaming off into the distance.

It was going to be a long climb…

But red, gold, green, and blue dots with a few black dots swirled all around the spire, a massive light show was being preformed around it, and as the three ran across the landscape, past shriveled trees, jumping over Lava Rivers, and darting through the morbid towns with the damned being raped, maimed or spiked, they became aware of less demons around them, the further they went…

"We're nearly there, guys! C'mon!" Jack prompted, his breathing was heavy.

"Damn that fucking thing is HUGE!" George gasped as they came nearer to their destination.

"My head hurts…" Cyraxo moaned.

As they approached the base of it, they looked up at the large gates that marked the entrance, they were pushed open, and the hinges nearly torn off.

"Wonder what happened?" Jack inquired.

But before his question could be answered, they were startled by the thud of a falling wind demon that smacked the ground next to them. Dead, the same wounds that almost killed Cyraxo raked its entire body.

"Shit!" Jack humped away from the cadaver, crying out in surprise, and disgust. "What the hell is going on up there?" Jack shouted, looking up the length of the tower. And he got his answer this time.

Angels.

Thousands of them.

All swarming around the spire, in combat with an ever shrinking number of demons trying to hold off the holey beings, but their efforts were in vain.

"Let's get out of here! If they see us we're toast!" George said as he hurriedly pushed his two companions through the gates.

They scampered into a large stone room with stairs leading upwards on all four sides. The ceiling was endless. Four spiral stairways led upwards to the roof.

"Looks like we're going up." Cyraxo sighed. She flapped her wings and took off skywards. The two ground locked souls raced up the stairs, trying to keep up with her.

2hours of nonstop climbing later…

"HOW MANY FUCKING STAIRS ARE THERE!" Jack raged, he had his hands on his knees, so far they made impressive progress, they didn't break or stop sprinting up the steps, and they had only a little more ways to go before they reached the roof.

"C'mon guys! We're almost there!" Cyraxo shouted to them as they lazily hovered by the stairs there were on. She was tempted to fly the rest of the way by her lonesome, but she refused to abandon her companions.

"Easy for you to say! YOU HAVE FUCKING WINGS!" jack spat back.

"Calm down son! Let's go, we had our break." Said George, he helped the CSA Marine to his feet, and they ran up the rest of the stairs.

They reached the top at long last and were met with a door, a simple wooden door that led to the top of the spire.

"Go on, get that thing open!" George prompted. Cyraxo landed behind him and folded her wings soon after.

"Ok, ok, calm down, sheesh…" Jack yelled.

"Hey, I'm antsy! We're leaving hell ok? Of course I'm going to be a little anxious!"

Jack turned the doorknob and stepped out.

Only to have a holey golden and glowing arrow slam into the wood by his face.

"SHIIIT!" He cried, he ducked this time as another arrow found itself flying towards him, and it too thudded into the wood.

Jack glanced up and to his horror; dozens of Angels were on the flat rooftop. Some had red clothing, or blue, green, golden yellow or white tunics. Some had bows with arrows, or crossbows with bolts, swords and shields, axes or scythes, daggers or spears, everything. A few even had flails.

"Shit…" Jack gasped. But the stricken expression soon morphed into a satanic grin. "…I'm going to enjoy this…" He cackled, he got down on one knee and flicked the fire rate to full-auto-insanity, and he fired from the hip, holding down the trigger as he sprayed the entire rooftop with 7.62 high velocity death.

George cocked his Tommy gun and dove into the fray, diving into prone he sprayed the field with his .45 smg rounds.

"Fuck YEAH!" HE cried, getting pumped as he watched the bodies stagger backwards and falling to the ground, and in some cases, off the edge of the roof, their wings to torn and riddled by the hail of lead, that they fell to their demise.

Cyraxo stayed back slightly, she tried not to look at the bloodshed before her, she was gentle like that.

Jack got to his feet, and still fired, slamming clip after clip into his Rifle, the angels were airborne now, they saw that close range fighting or staying on the ground was a death sentence

George stuck closely to Jack, both watched each other's backs loyally, "It feels good to fight by another marine again! Aint matter what our times are!" George laughed over his shoulder.

"Damn right!" Jack laughed back, spraying another angel with lead that was diving towards them, crying a name of some sorts; she soon met the same fate of her supposed lover, and jack felt no remorse. No pain, no empathy.

But soon, the turkey shoot became a turkey brawl.

The Angelic assailants wised up to the two soldier's superior weaponry, and they began to dodge left and right, blind charges meant suicide.

"Shit! Check left!" Jack cried, he spun around as an arrow nearly hit him, and he returned fire only to have the archer duck below the roof, out of view and safe.

"Bastard!" Jack swore as the angel dove out of view.

"Jack watch out!" George cried, her heard a rally of gunfire and felt wetness at the back of his neck. He swirled around to see an angel slump to the ground, he had blood on his back, and a hole was in the angels' neck coming from an angel at the side.

"Focus bro! That one nearly got you!" George shouted.

"Sorry! Thanks!" jack nodded, re-asserting his attention to his front, he continued to fend off wave after wave of enemy attackers.

"We're running out of options here George!" jack shouted.

"I know! I Know!"

"What the hell do we do? We're here! But how the fuck do we get-"

Jack was cut off.

A blinding pillar of white holy light shot out from the sky, and slammed into the roof.

"-out…of…here…"

That was the last thing he said before a force pulled at his cloths and sucked, him, Cyraxo, George, and a few angels into the pillar of light…

…...

OMFG. I TOOOOOK SOOOO LOOOOOONG TOOOO UUPPPPPDAAAAAAAAAAAATE….


	10. Rebirth

Chapter Nine: Life

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"_Jack! JACK! Wake up! WAKE UP!"_

Jack opened his eyes, and searing pain met them.

"Look at me! LOOK AT ME!" the voice shouted franticly, he felt something grab his arms and shake him.

"Mrr?" Jack opened them more, and his eyes sight improved.

"Oh thank god! I thought I lost you there for a second…" it was George. He was kneeling by jack's side loyally.

"*COUGH!* *COUGH!* Where… where are we…" Jack sat up slowly. And looked around.

They were in a grave yard for starters. Rows upon rows of tomb stones lined the field quite clearly. A fresh blanket of snow covered the ground, and a fence penned them into the yard of the dead, and outside the fence was a forest of trees, at one part a small dirt path ran through the forest to and from the graveyard.

Next to Jack and George was an open grave, which looks like something dug out of.

The tombstone though… it had a name.

JACKS NAME.

This was his grave…

"Shit… This was where I was buried…" Jack gasped.

"Yeah, no shit. Oh, and congrats, you one the Medal of Honor." George said, saluting him and patting him on the back, he helped Jack to his feet and steadied him slightly.

"I'll ask it again, where are we?"

Jack looked around once more, slowly, old feelings and memories returned to him his heart skipped a beat, he recognized this graveyard… he recognized this place!

"We're… we're on Kevlar-27…" He gasped. "My…My home Planet…"

….

In a cave, far away, in a mountain range left untouched by mans powerful molding hands of iron and fire. Which forge tools out of rock and ore, and cities out of dirt and wood, a small bead of life is place into the realm of the living.

It was small, cold, and un-enlightened to its situation, but not only that, it is lost and confused.

It was Cyraxo, the young Vixen like Demoness from the Outer Circle of Hell, and a resident Shadow Demon 'freak'.

"uhhgn…" the young female demon moaned, her small lithe from uncurled from the protective ball it had positioned itself into during the strange bright flash of light that occurred in what felt like moments ago.

Cyraxo coughed and opened her eyes. Light screamed at her retinas, not the gentle light that she knew from hell that was filtered out through the clouds, but bright light! Painful light! It bit at her sensitive eyes, forcing her to close them immediately after.

"Ee!" She squeaked, it hurt! In Hell light never hurt her eyes! It was always cloudy!

But the young Demoness was soon curious, she always has been, and she was soon fascinated by his sudden predicament, she slowly opened them, letting them adjust to the strange light.

Soon her vision adjusted adequately. And she could see once more.

What met her eyes was the sheer essence of beauty and perfection…

She was up on a mountain, at the mouth of a cave to be exact with strange mystic runes like a belt going around in a circle to the top of the cave and then back down to the floor, bluish white runes to be exact.

She stood up carefully on her own two legs, wobbling slightly as she stood, and took in the view; the wind ruffled her exposed fur. The sky was pure blue, with some clouds drifting lazily about in the pure sky. The air was thin, but she felt fine, she had been up in high places before. She saw a town below the mountain; she could see for miles in many a direction.

She could not see the north, but she could see the south, west and east.

She saw that to the direct south there was a big city in the distance, to the west around quite a few miles in the direction she saw a coastline to a huge lake, one she could not see the other side on! It went on for miles!

To the east, vast forest and white ground. Farther to the east there was a mountain range, with a single trail going through it. And a small village with a lazy smoke spiral curling upwards.

The tree's were numerous and everywhere below her, tipped with white branches, and tops, like little hats made out of snow.

But she was lonely and she didn't know where she was, or where Jack and George were! Maybe somebody could help her find jack! And tell her more about this strange land with beautiful blue skies and soft white clouds.

She ran forward to the edge of the cave entrance and flung herself into the sky, and angled herself downwards and dove through the clouds that hung low to the ground.

She was okay at flying but she glided more then she flew, she could gain altitude, but her wings were not like her older sisters, Ryvex, which were larger, and stronger then her own.

As the young Demoness glided lazily over the tips of the trees, she began to see humans walking along the dirt paths in between the trees, none of them saw her, and there were not many of them, one for every two miles it seemed.

But soon the path branched off and she was flying over pure white frozen forest now, nearing the town near the mountain valley.

She flew lower to the ground just skimming the treetops, banking to the left and right sometimes to avoid a high branch or tree tip.

But the one thing she failed to avoid was a bird taking off, and catching her on the right wing.

"GAH!" She cried out, she flipped over and tumbled to the ground, luckily she landed in soft snow and she landed unharmed, though, slightly shaken and startled.

She poked her head out through the fresh layer of snow and shook her head to clear her hair and fur of the wet frozen water.

"Brrr! That stuff is freezing!" She shivered. She stood up and stepped out of the snow hole, into more solid snow that supported her weight.

"I can't take off directly from the ground… and my fur is too wet… I'll drop like a stone!" She moans. Noting that her shirt was soaked from the watery white and cold ice. She decided to remove it from her body, so she did, and tied it around her waist like a belt.

"There we go, looks like I'm walking for the rest of the way… hope I can find some place to sleep soon, I'm tired…" She yawns exhaustedly as she says this out loud. She then proceeded to plod through the snow, humming a soft tune as she did.

…

The young black and purple furred Demoness walked for hours through the snow, her legs began to ach, and the daylight was failing. But her night-vision was excellent, and she could see clearly. But her fur was damp, and she was beginning to lose feeling in her body. She felt so tired, but yet something in her head screamed at her to keep going and not to fall asleep, no matter what.

More Snow fell from the wind raped sky, gusts of wind and sleet ripped at her fur, watering it and freezing it into thick clumps of cold wet fur.

'_Fooosh!_' she let out a torrent of hot fire, a small light in the dark sky, it warmed her front greatly, and she kept it up for a few seconds before she let it die out so she could breath.

"I N-n-need t-t-t-to f-f-find sh-shelter…" She shivered, she plodded through the snow once again, and she stopped every so often to warm herself with her fiery breath.

And a few seconds later, she tripped.

"Oof!" She yelled in surprise, she quickly scrambled to her feet to avoid the temptation of falling off to sleep in the deadly cold blanket of snow.

She turned around and scanned the ground, trying to find the object she tripped over.

No, not object.

PERSON.

In front of her was a strangely dressed person in a red tunic and red head band, even stranger was the bow and Shortsword at his hip. He was in no way prepared for the weather he was dying in, Cyraxo had an excuse, and even so she coped with it, thanks to her thick fur and fiery breath that has saved many a time this night.

But luck had blessed the young man, for it was Cyraxo that found him lying there alone in the cold snow. The young Demoness had a warm heart, and a warm heart is what he needed most at the moment.

"Well…I can't just leave him here…" Cyraxo said worriedly. "He must've gotten lost in the dark…"

She bent down to him, and tugged on his tunic, pulling him up to her, she was stronger then most human females, and he was lighter than most humans, so he was easy to drag.

But luck had not finished blessing them.

Cyraxo had dragged him through the snow for a good five minutes uphill, she needed to find a place to rest, and she was beginning to succumb to the temptations of sleeping in the snow. Her fingers began to go numb.

It was at that same time that she turned her heads to look uphill and to where she was going, when something caught her eye.

A god send, or hell sends, either one works. It was a cabin, a two floor cabin, like a barn.

She quickened her pace and tried the door, thankfully it was old and unlocked, and she pushed it open and then dragged the strange person in with her.

The living room was large; a broken table leaned on its side in the middle of the room, there was a ruined couch, rocking chair, a soiled rug on the floor, and a Fireplace. There was a stairway and three boarded up windows. There was a staircase that went up to the second floor, which was the bedroom and bathroom. In the bedroom there was a queen-sized bed and dresser and a closet. Around the corner downstairs there was the kitchen with all things you would find in a kitchen including a fridge, sink, furnace and such.

She lay the strange pale white figure down on the couch and removed his outer clothing that was wet, for instance the wraps on his arms and legs. Leaving him bare chest and with only his undergarments on thankfully, though he was very well built, solid.

But the one thing that confused her… she didn't notice it before, but he had wings… soft, white, feathery wings on his back…

She thought nothing of it, and began to tend to the wounds that raked his body. He had claw and burn marks all over him. And he was freezing cold, but alive, barley.

Cyraxo bent her face down to him and breathed a soft flame over him, just far away enough from his skin that it didn't burn it, but it quickly warmed him up.

He had long white hair with red rips, and elf like ears and a pointed nose, his face was sharp and elegant, but it was also strong and had a firm jaw. His entire body was lean like a runners build.

As she moved her healing flame over every part of him, she grinned joyously as she felt his heart-rate increase back to its safe and healthy rate.

As she moved down to his feet and then to his hands, making sure he didn't lose them. As she finished warming him with her fire (That's what she said!) She looked down at herself, and mewed slightly when she saw that her fur was hugging her shapely body, showing off her well formed curves and bumps.

She threw down her Dress/Shirt/Rags that she had tied around her waist and hung them in front of the fire place; she managed to find a log which she put in and then lit with her fire breath.

Soon she had a lovely roaring fire, and she proceeded to bandage the strange winged person up in bandages and rags she found lying around the cabin.

"There…Good as new…" She smiled to herself, her fur had begun to dry, but she felt relived to be finally out of the rags, she liked being nude. It felt free and natural.

Night was still blanketing the world outside, and the snow still smashed against the boarded up windows and doors.

But the fire still crackled loyally, the heat in the cold, the spark in the night; it warmed them and dried them lovingly and dutifully.

As Cyraxo inspected the house over one last time, she then went back into the room with strange person, she then looked at the pile of his clothes and then at the other things he had.

She walked over to the Sword, Bow, arrows and quiver she placed on the table in the living room.

She looked down at them and glanced at the sword, she felt memoires return to her.

_Clashing metal shrieks of torment soft thuds of steel headed arrows bangs of shields roars of demons tendrils of flame scathing the air…_

Cyraxo shook herself back to the present, she turned around and glanced at the strange person, something wasn't clicking… she's seen people like him before… but she just can't remember… it just wasn't quite…there…

She sighed in defeat. She couldn't recall anything. Her nerves were frazzled; she was tired, her limbs hurt, and her head was pounding, not only that she was still cold, she needed to rest or else her legs would fall off.

She padded softly over to the fireplace, and lay in front of it; she curled up into tight ball, her back to the fire, her wings tucked together neatly. She let her tail softly wag at the tip, beating the floor with a rhythmic drum every few seconds.

Her Heavy lids closed slowly over her violet eyes. Sending her vision into darkness, peaceful blessed darkness. But with that came dreams and sleep, but no dreams of beautiful skies and soft clouds met her, only death and nightmares.

She shivered in her sleep, the night, has begun.

A night without Jack and George, her brother, and her friend.

The only people she knows in this strange cruel land.

…

End Chapter.


	11. Change of Mind

Chapter Eleven: Unwelcome Home.

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Dawn lightly kissed the sun-dappled sky, light with fluffy clouds that slowly floated through the air, like sheep on an emerald lawn.

The small cottage in the forest, covered by the white blanket of snow and ice, as a small curtain of small white flecks peacefully fell to the ground, and white shafts of light pierced through the clouded sky here and there, life stirred in the small, warm, home.

Cyraxo stretched and yawned as she woke up, and stretched, her beautiful violet crystals of eyes opened and took in the view before her.

She was in the bedroom; the strange person was down-stairs on the couch still asleep, but alive.

She arched her back like a cat and stretch let out a soft groan as the stiffness that plagued her dissipated.

She gave a quick flutter of her wings to get the blood flowing back in them again.

As wakefulness returned to her, she walked over to the door, brushing her fur down with her hand all the while.

She opened the door and stepped out of the room and walked down the stairs, her foot falls echoed through the stairwell.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and she stepped into the living room, yawning all the while.

She glanced over at the sleeping white winged Person that looked around her own age, perhaps the same age as her, she didn't know at the moment.

She looked him over once more, and then turned around and walked into the kitchen; she looked around a few times, and felt her stomach growl, and complain to her for food. Something that had never before happened back in the Outer Circle…

She rubbed her tummy woefully, and looked around the kitchen for something to eat, until she chanced upon a small stash of beans and rice.

She took them out and found two small bowls, she didn't know if her sleeping roommate would wake up or not. or if he's ever seen a Demoness before, so she wanted to make the best impression on him as she could.

She heated the beans and rice with her fiery breath, and placed one bowl on the counter, hers.

She then walked out with the other bowl and knelt down to the sleeping figure. She placed the food bowl on the table beside the couch, in case he woke up without her knowing. She smiled down at him, and walked out to eat her meal. She was starving.

But as soon as she walked out, an eye fluttered on the wounded persons face.

...

Muffled memoires in the form of sounds assaulted the winged boys mind with spears that jolted it to wakefulness.

The first thing that was learned by him was that he was no longer cold, and he no longer hurt. A great improvement to his situation, by far.

The second was that he felt a soft sheet covering him, and the smell of warm food nearby.

This rallied his muscles to bring him into the upright sitting position, and reach for the bowl of Beans and Rice not too far away.

He scarfed the food down with an abandon of any manners, hunger had overtaken his mind, the food felt great against his throat.

Next, he pulled the covers off of him and examined his healed wounds, seeing that they all were mended, he found his cloths hanging on a table near the fire. He slipped on his wraps and tunic, and tied the cloth belt on around his waist. He looked around the age of eighteen and stood 5'6 feet tall, and had white hair down to his shoulders with flaming red tips, and golden eyes, his white wings were folded behind him. He also recovered his sword still in its red leather sheath, and red bow and a quiver filled with arrows with red tips, not surprisingly.

Satisfied that his inventory had not been sifted through or raided, he decided now would be the best time to thank the host of this cabin for their hospitality and saving his life.

That's when the big shock came.

He turned the corner when he heard the clanking of silverware and smell of food. And instead of finding a kindly old lady or forest goers, Cyron or Human, anyone, he did not expect to find a young, mature female Shadow Demoness sitting at a table, eating Beans and Rice casually.

He froze up, and his legs stiffened along with his back and arms. He heard about the ruthlessness and short temper of a Shadow demon, especially with the females who are in heat, tend to become very emotional, and will attack, flirt with, or even attempt to mate with _**any**_ male being, regardless of race or species.

Though it did not appear that she was in heat, he was lucky it wasn't a Male Demon, there stronger then the female Demoness's, and bigger and bulkier. A full grown Earth Demon Bull can weigh over 750 Pounds…

It was unnerving to have one this close to him, he was an archer; he didn't want to get close to a Demon!

Though Cyraxo… Could be an exception…

The black and purple furred Demoness's ears twitched and she glanced up and over at the apparent Angel, it took a few moments for her to recognize the startled man, but then her expression changed from apprehensive to happy.

"Oh! Good! You're awake! I was really worried about you there for a moment… Did you find your food?" She asked casually, with a cheerfulness in her voice that confused and unnerved the stranger.

He stayed silent, not moving as if that would cause her to lose track of him. And ever so slowly, he moved one hand to the hilt of his blade.

Though his caution proved unneeded…

The wretched damned beast from hell simply frowned and cleared his place, his eyes tracked her as she bent down and picked up his plate and walked out, he stayed where he was the whole time.

It was three seconds later he snapped his wits back into his mind. A demon was in this house, just one, small, young, Demoness. A female, they weren't as strong as the males, he could handle it… He was skillful with his Sword as he was with his Bow, though; honestly he was better with his bow…

He relaxed only slightly when it walked out of the room, he could run he could get out of the cabin and just make a Bee-line to the nearest city where he could try to find his comrades, ask around, and stay in a lodge.

But he wouldn't, there were innocent people that this thing would slaughter if it chanced upon them, and it was his sworn duty to kill all Demons, regardless of age or element, and that included gender.

This female was no different.

He drew his sword and checked it over twice on both sides, it was not harmed.

He took a deep breath and forced the horrible stories of angles slaughtering children his age, who have not even spent two weeks in battle with Demons. This was his fifth or Sixth Demon he's seen, second female and first Shadow Demon…

Hopefully it won't be his last…

He wasted enough time as it was, as silently as he could he stepped into the kitchen, and he saw it curiously flipping through an old dusty book.

He swung in a wide arc, catching it off-guard, his blade hit home on the Demoness's shoulder.

It let out a pained squeak of surprise and pain mixed together, dropping the book and jumping back away from him immediately after the blow.

But he cursed himself for not remembering the most vital part, he didn't bless the blade in the holy oils that make them so effective in the first place, but he didn't have time now, it was aware of the threat.

…

Cyraxo's mind was a mess, blood ran freely from the deep cut in her left arm, just below the shoulder, and it stung terribly.

She looked up at the opponent, and suddenly, the shock was out of her system, she could remember what he was; the fear that plagued her during the escape from the Outer Circle was no longer clouding her mind.

Angels.

He was an Angel.

Her mortal enemy, not by her choice… but by nature.

And by nature, her fight or flight systems were racing. She didn't know what to do.

So her mind chooses for her.

Fight.

She dodged left into the stairwell, avoiding another savage attack from the Angels sword, her blood was racing, her heart was pounding, her senses were tuned to the finest setting.

When he was in front of the stairwell, she made her move; he was too slow to react in time to her lightning fast reflexes.

She lunged at him, catching him by surprise as she hooked her claws onto his shirt and pulled him down with her as she fell.

When they hit the floor he twisted and pulled trying to dislodge her, she was underneath him pinned between the floor and him, but she held on and sank her fangs deep into his shoulder drawing blood that slid down her throat, it was not a pleasant feeling, the taste was unfamiliar.

Soon he got his elbow into a position where he jammed it back into her ribs, making her falter and release her claws from him, but he tore his shoulder away from her fangs, tearing him up on the way out.

He didn't stop there, he reached for his sword that fell from his hand when the Demoness tackled him moments ago, and right as he grabbed the hilt he felt the same Demoness barrel into his side, ramming him with its short curved horns.

It knocked the wind out of him; it was a solid blow, that's for sure. He fell back into the living room where he scrambled to get up. He panted and his eyes darted up to the doorway, where his eyes met hers and what he saw in them was fear, anxiety, and conflict.

It stalled him for a moment, but it also stalled hers, whatever it saw that is…

But his stall was more detrimental, it was on him in seconds, it was fast.

He felt its sharp claws cut into the skin of his arms, not a deep wound, but a long and bloody one that jolted him. The following blow knocked him onto his back again, a solid knee to his center that stunned him.

But before the third attack could come around her raised one foot up and kicked as she attempted to dive on top of him and most likely maul him.

He lashed out with the foot and sent her flying back into a wall and she slid to the floor painfully.

He struggled to his foot, surprisingly the only bad wound he got was her bite, the scratches were nothing. Her on the other hand, her sword wound was very, very, bad.

She stood up quickly, and both of them stared each other down, waiting for the other to make a move.

She lunged forward, he reached back.

It was about to tackle him again but he was going to end this now, he unslung his bow with lightning speed, that only a trained, steady hand could accomplish and at the same time he strung two arrows from the quiver on his back, he pulled back and let fly.

'_SCUCK!'_

The sound of the arrows slicking the Demoness through the thigh and shoulder before she even left the floor, the arrows cut through her, and slammed her into the wall and stuck themselves into the wooden walls, blood oozed out of them.

She struggled vainly to pull the arrow out of her right shoulder, but her left arm was becoming numb. And her leg screamed in agony.

Not only that, but she thought she had something broken somewhere.

She pulled feebly now at the arrow in her shoulder with her free hand, she mad managed to get it to rise up and grab the shaft. But she felt weak, she had failed.

The angel had left the room for the time being, but she heard the sound of metal being slid over the floor as it was picked up. Her heart quickened, mind raced.

Footsteps entering the room. Her breathing becoming shallow gasps for air. Her sweat poured. Time slowed. Tears welled in her eyes.

'_Is this the end?_' Was her minds only question.

The Angel in the red clothing walked carefully over to her, Shortsword held in one hand, a Gladius to be exact.

His expression was that of relief and discouragement, and hate. So much hate and anger, clouded by exhaustion.

It scared her.

His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly as he stood before the broken Demoness, pinned on the wall like a butterfly in a collection, but this one still grasped life fearfully, as the needles stuck into it drained its life water away little by little.

Her eyes, a Pure intoxicating Violet, crystal, and vigorous, so full of life and curiosity, a shame that it would be crushed under his fist, at his whim, at any time hi pleased. He was playing god right now, he had the power to end a life. He could do _anything_ he wanted to her, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

He looked at her closely; he had the time to now.

He had seen Demons before, in books, pictures, paintings and in the flesh, but most weren't real Demons, and those that were, were too far away for him to see in detail. The ones he saw up-close were dead, mutilated by magic and swords.

But now he had one all to himself, a living, breathing, Shadow Demoness. A _Shadow_ Demoness… He had done what many dreamed of doing, catching, or killing, a shadow Demon, they were rare, and hard to fight in single combat, but he had! Needless to say it lasted only a few minutes under strange circumstances, and honestly, it was like she didn't wish to fight in the first place. Maybe she was in heat after all…

But the point still stands…

He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, wondering what to do with it. "*Sigh* what to do…What to do…" He whispered to himself, all this while, the wounded Demoness hung there, eyes staring at the Angel, fearful and cowed.

"Are….you going to…Kill, me…" The small voice rasped.

He glanced up, another first, a demon talking to him. There have been reports of Demons screaming curses at Angles in battle, but never before had there been a conversation. But those words were a question, not small talk.

Her lips trembled slightly, only now does he notice the tear stained fur on her cheeks. He almost felt pity for the poor creature. It was pretty young looking after all, not even 19, or 18 maybe.

He thought for a moment, and then replied. "I guess…" he shrugged; he couldn't go around lugging a Demoness wherever he went, just to prove a point.

"No! Please!" She cried shakily, she struggled against the arrows pinning her for a moment before the pain lanced through her. "Please, please no! I didn't mean any harm…" She pleaded, her tail curled around her legs like a snake seeking shelter.

This stopped him for a brief second. "What do you mean, Demon?" He spat.

"You… You were out in the snow and I pulled you in here, you were freezing to death… I didn't know you were an Angel… I didn't even know about them until yesterday…" She explained in fear, her voice shaky and stutter filled.

The angel remembered the biting cold dragging him to sleep; he thought he was going to die but instead he wakes up to a hot meal and a Demoness tending to him.

"You attacked me and I didn't know what to o so I defended myself, I didn't want to hurt you so I tried not to! I don't like hurting people! Please! Just let me go! I just wanna find my friends…" She whimpered tears streamed from her eyes. It was impossible not to feel Regret or pity for her at this point.

The angel now had a dilemma, he was confused, this Demoness just cried her heart out a told a painful explanation, one that struck guilt into his heart, she saved him regardless of race, and tended to him. And he attacked her while she only inflicted minor to light wounds.

He was trained to kill Demons, but he was Weird biologically to be kind.

It was better to think twice before making a mistake… maybe if he though more of what to do. But if he didn't get the arrows out of her she would die.

"You'll live, for now, do as I say and no harm will befall you, now, relax. This will hurt." He said calmly, but a hint of unease crossed his voice, he reached to the arrow on her shoulder and snapped off the end, and then to the arrow on her thigh and snapped off the feathered part as well. He gently slid her forward, and the two remaining parts of the arrow slid off cleanly. She groaned as she limped off of the arrow heads, and held onto him for support.

"Thank…You…" She cried in pain, softly, but just loud enough for him alone to hear.

He uneasily held her back, but she fainted and into his arms she fell, causing him to grab her so she did not hurt herself on the floor. He stood there awkwardly as the blood deprived, Feeble Demoness bled in his arms.

"…I should fix that…." He muttered, as he laid her on the couch and went to fetch some water and medical supplies.

Little did he know that this was the start of an adventure of a lifetime.

…..

END MOTHA-FUCKIN-CHAPTA!

BOOYEAH MOTHA FUCKA! NOTHA CHAPTA DOWNNN!

YOU KNOW THAT FUCKIN DRILL. READ THIS SHIT AND PUNCH DOES GOD DAMN KEYS! REVIEW THAT SHIT!

Whoa…. Where the fuck did that come from… O.O

Uhhmmm…. Spaz attack aside, please, read and review like the good readers you are.


	12. Retaliation

Chapter Twelve: New Soul of Shadows.

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Morning rose for the cabin in the woods. The interesting day that occurred yesterday finished with silence, as Cyraxo and the Angel had an uneasy treaty between them. Cyraxo was actually very intrigued by the Angel, stealing passing or back glances at him when she could. But for the most part she stayed silent and submissive towards him, and did as she was told, but mostly he just stayed away from her and instead focused on reading through the books that were in the cabin, resting, praying, or inspecting his arsenal.

But when it came time for them to sleep, Cyraxo surrendered he bed to him without argument and slept on the couch downstairs. It was a cold night that night, but her thick fur kept her warm with ease.

She pondered about her delimit. Here she was in a house with an angel, if George was here he would break its neck with his bare hands, if it was Jack, he would stare it down until it burst into flames with his boiling glare that could scathe a full grown Dragon to the core. Death would destroy its soul and send it to hell with a flick of his boney finger and a muttered incarnation.

But yet, none of the named three were there to do any of that…

She was by herself… And she only had her mediocre traits and skills; she only had herself to rely on.

Herself, no one else, no one to care, no on to listen to her pleads and cries.

She felt so lonely…

But all thoughts were pushed aside when the Angel entered the room, from upstairs, and once again, Cyraxo snuck a curious glance at him. How he moved, how he looked, how he acted and how he looked at her, with that simmering anger and resentment followed by passive disgust and a glare in her direction that made her flinch, cower, back away, and let out a frightened whine of that of a dog while her ears flattened, and eyes filled with fear.

She always felt as if she had done some horrible sin when she was around him. She felt like a bad child that hasn't been caught yet, but knew she was up on the list of suspects. A murderer being hunted down with the dogs nipping at his heels, and gunshots directed at him. Or even better, a demon disguised as an angel while surrounded by angels…

But sometimes he looked at her differently, one time she decided to wash herself, she was going to lick herself clean as she usually did at times, but then the Angel boy told her to either roll in melting snow or use the water from the sink that surprisingly still worked. She did as told and after a few minutes of pouring water over herself she as soaked and finally clean, her wounds healed and blood gone from her fur.

As she walked out into the room where he sat reading one of the dusty old books from the shelf, he looked up at her and froze up for a moment, his normally clear white face got an odd shade of red in it and he then shook his head and slammed his face back into his book. She was slightly confused but thought that asking would only warrant pain to be inflected on her hide. She did not want to be hurt again she did not want to step out of line… in a way, she was a slave to this angel, he was her master she was his pet, servant, slave, any one of the three…

She reviewed this in her mind as she got herself together and stood up in the small cabin. Her tail swept the floor at her feet, she fluttered her wings slightly to get the blood flowing back into them, and soon they felt stronger and warm, ready for flight. She licked at the fur on her arm that was frizzled and out of place, she liked to keep herself better groomed then most demonesses, a habit that gave her the fancied glance of many young Demons and Young Demonesses in the towns of the outer circle. She had been taken forcefully by men and women more than once in that place, but she didn't know any better, she thought she did bad, but now she didn't know what to think.

She finished with her arm and moved to her leg, she stretched it up in the air like a house cat does when it is grooming itself, but in her case she did not look so 'Innocent' to onlookers, as it gave a very revealing and clear view of her rear-end, though thankfully her tail covered any treasures that would be found on her tush.

And one of these 'lucky' or 'unlucky' onlookers is the Angel boy, walking into the room to fetch another book to study or read. His face reddened and he tore his eyes away and stared at the ceiling.

"Exactly what are you doing!" He glared, his sudden arrival surprised Cyraxo, he was so silent…

"!" She squeaked, she looked up from licking her leg and stared at him for a moment. "Oh, uh, wha?" she stammered.

"Stupid Demon…" The Angel groaned. Rubbing his face with his hands. "Why are you sitting like that and…? Licking you're leg!" He shouted this time.

She winced at his sudden outburst, but now understood his question better. "Oh…I'm grooming myself…My, my fur is messy…" She gently brought her leg back down and sat so she was on her knees, hands on her knees, and eyes riveted to the angel in fear, he was angered….

"*Sigh* Look." He let out a angered breath of air. He folded his arms in front of him, and looked disapprovingly down at Cyraxo. "If you have to do that, do that somewhere else. And really, is it to much to ask of you to put on some cloths? I know you're a _Demon_ and all and maybe that thought hasn't crossed you're lust filled mind that-" This advisory turned anti demon rant that was now directed at Cyraxo, struck something primitive deep inside her core. Something that she had felt before, but the situation was blurry. IT rose up into her mouth like acidic bile, a rancid taste and burning sensation that burnt away the feebleness of her soul for the time being, letting the fiery haughtiness, seductive bravado and commanding nature of a Hell born Shadow Demoness come through for once.

And she liked it.

Cyraxo felt the anger build in the back of her wings and work its way to her chest, legs and arms, and then her mouth and eyes, she felt it burning and hot. '_How dare I let this, this, holy assed scum treat me like shit…'_ the thought went through her mind like a train. She stood up now but not with the skittish-ready-to-bolt like stance she had before, but more of a purposeful, sexy, come-and-get-me/ you-like-what-you-see/don't-mess-with-me stance. Hip cocked slightly out and arms folded under her breasts in a provocative manner. Her wings folded neatly behind her and a subtle rage burned beneath her eyes like a bonfire, each word the angel spat at her was kindling, her eyes narrowed slightly.

Her tail swatted the air behind her, she was the same height as the angel, maybe a little less, but it didn't mean she was weaker, quite the opposite in fact. Most demons were stronger then Angels, females included, the female demon on average is stronger than an adult male Angel, so Cyraxo, was more than a match for this young male haloed menace.

"That's it…." She spat, she leaped forward and made the distance to the angel in a matter of moments, she tackled him and drove him to the floor with a loud thud, both hands pinned his arms to the ground, and she straddled him with her legs on either side of him. Her tail lashed angrily at the air. She brought her face close to his and stared him straight in the eye, and she growled angrily. "Now listen here you haled little fuck. I've had enough of you're righteous crap bullshit. You are beyond _LUCKY_, You know? If it had been any other Demoness out there in the woods that night that found you in the snow, they would've killed and eaten you, or taken you back to their cave and raped you're dick raw. And now that I think of it, I might take you and have my way with you right here and now seeing how much of a prick you're being to the Demoness that kindly dragged your ass through the snow and tended to your wounds… and trust me, I WILL, fucking rape you if I want to. And then I'll eat out your lungs… so you best change your attitude pal, because I'm _TIERED_ Of your shit… I know that angels and demons don't get along, but I'm different…. Okay? I have a situation, and so do you… so stow the crap until a later date, ok?" she snaps, growling with every word, the angel's eyes were wide as fruit bowls. But he still managed to struggle in vain.

"Give it up Angel, I'm not moving until you cut the shit, I can do this all day and all night…" She growls.

"GRR, Get off! I won't take orders from you're kind! Hell Spawn!" The angel shouts back at her.

She rolls her eyes and digs her claws into his arms, drawing blood as they dug into his skin.

"ERG! He grunted, her claws weren't the sharpest on the black, she needed to tend to them, but that made it all the more painful as the dug in.

"I'm not being unreasonable, I just want an apology, and a truce until we find out friends." She sighs.

"There are more of you?" He suddenly asks.

"No, just two humans from the outer circle of hell. I hail from there, and I never hurt, raped, or tortured any souls… that is, until now maybe…" She smirks sinisterly; her tails lightly traces the pinned angel's nether regions causing him to squirm in repulsion and fear, even more so when she slipped her tail into his pants and stroked his leg seductively. "You do know where this is going to wind up at, don't you. Three ways I can punish you for being an ass. Each one ends with death." She threatens with a terrifyingly seductive voice; it was completely out of the ordinary for her to do such a thing to anyone.

"S-stop that!" The angel stutters squirming uncomfortably as her tail continued to feel his groin eagerly; it kept squeezing certain sensitive parts 'down there.'

"Now, it certainly feels like you're packing now let's see if you really are…" Cyraxo grins at him with a glare and moved one hand down to where her tail was at the moment.

"Ok! Fine! You win! I Apologize, now please, just stop! And was all of that really needed?" He shouts.

"Yes, Yes, and thank you…" Cyraxo smirks, withdrawing her tail, but not without one more passing feel as it slipped out of his garments. "Now was that really so hard to do?" She asks him with an air of victory about her.

"…No." He mutters.

"Good, now don't make me have to do that again. Think about it for a while. You may learn something about yourself." Cyraxo says now in her warm voice, it returned suddenly but yet her new mindset did not. Something about her changed that day. Gone as Cyraxo the timid, born was Cyraxo the Princess of Shadows.

….

End Chapter.


	13. Diplomacy CAN be fun!

Chapter Thirteen: Who Dat Marine? 8D  
Diplomacy IS fun!

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In town of Madil, Town located near Forested Graveyard, early morning.

The lazy town of Madil, a rural location with old rustic cottages with thatched roofs and cobblestone paths and streets, only a few modernized metal houses and television stores, and even less Computers, and only one small CSA Marine outpost that only had one Vertical takeoff plane, two APC's, 4 Fast attack vehicles and One light tank.

But it was not the lack of support or man power that had some things stirred up lately in the town, it was somewhere more, urban that the buzz was located.

Two new arrivals has entered town, a battle worn and weary CSA Marine lacking Dogtags and wore a dirty face and slightly ripped clothing.

And the other, a Grizzled and sharp tongued classic incarnation of a WWII US Marine, from the 1940's. Carrying a well preserved Tommy gun and M-1 Garand, and Colt. He too wore a battle crusted mask of mud, dirt and blood.

They walked into town at early morning around 6:45AM. The sun was just climbing over the mountains and the clouds were floating across the sky.

They strode in to Madil with a surreal kind of movement. As if they just completed a long walk or deathly haul.

They stood at the town entrance for a while, just looking at the now waking populace stirring and walking out into the street, riding bikes, walking, and a few off road cars or pickups, the street was wide, the street were the cars drove was in the middle, on either side a cobblestone side walk the same size of the street lay paved, a Modernized Humvee with a 20mml RC Turret rumbled past them, the passengers inside slowed the vehicle to shout out the window at The Ragged CSA trooper, who only gave an empty stare in return, they moved on without further comment.

They then staggered into the town slightly hunched over and weary eyes tracing the shops and houses, each passer-by stopped and stared at either George or Jack for a few moments before continuing on with their day.

George was heavily shocked, this was the first time, ever he has seen modern life, and for that, Cyrons. The furred humanoid animal like creatures, with distinct resemblance to a dog, cat, fox, lynx, or such of these species that humans knew well during their time on land.

At one such point George walked up to a Cyron Female wolf street vendor selling fruit from a stand, and just stared at her in disbelief, as if her were shell shocked.

After a few awkward moments and when she asked if she could help, Jack quickly pulled him aside and they continued.

They traveled until they were in the town central plaza, that's where they snapped out of there super and they quickly jogged into a nearby library. They quickly made their way to the back into the history section.

"What the hell is all this shit man? Strange cars? Big ass turrets? Animal people? 2-for-the-price-of-one-Discounts? Talk!" George whispered incredulously to jack.

Jack pushes him back away from him slightly, and in a hushed, but angered voice he whispers back. "Calm down!" He insists. "They're not _Animal People_! There called _Cyron's_ There aliens, they've been around for awhile! There our friends, ok? Don't stare at them, they're very self conscience!" Jack hisses.

"You mean these things are from Outer Space! IE: Another planet! With little rockets and lasers and buck Rogers! A Ray gun in one hand and a little space helmet and red jump suit? That kinda shit! What the fuck is happening!" George slides down to the floor, babbling nonsense silently. Jack sits down with him.

"No! No! None of that is right, there all right, there good people! They helped us out a lot and none of that other shit is what the real stuff is like. Since were in the history section, anyway…" Jack reaches up and pulls a book off the shelf. "Here, study up." He hands it to George, who opens it with shaky hands.

"Now I'm going to go wash my face and look around for a bit and see what I can do about us not having a place to stay and something to chow down on." Jack sighs.

"Y-You do that… Hol-oh graph-ic Tee-VEE's?..." George mumbled absentmindedly, he was currently in the invention category of the book.

Jack rolled his eyes in amusement, and he looked around for a bit, it seemed that he could not find the bathroom.

"Looks like I'll go ask the person at the desk…" He says to himself as he walks over to the front of the small public library. As he walks through the aisles, he can now clearly see the assortment of people in the place, he saw a couple of CSA Marines in the library, checking out HoloBooks and such.

He got to the front desk, and looked around; no one was manning the post.

"Uh, Hello? Anyone here?" he loudly calls out as he rings the bell a few times.

"GAH!" A figure jumps up out from behind the desk, hair frazzled, and astray, a book lay open on her head, a library card hung around her neck. She was a Marine, a CSA Marine acting as a civilian librarian.

She had blond hair and striking green eyes that were as deep as a field of glowing green grass that went on for miles in every direction. And she looked to be around 29, and looked strangely familiar…

"Oh, hi, can I help you?" She stammered embarrassedly, quickly taking the book off her head.

"Yeah, where's the fuckin bathroo-!M..." His expression suddenly stiffened as he recognized who he was talking to.

It was Maria.

MARIA.

CONNER.

(Duh-duh-duuuuuuuuuunnnn!)

….

Back at the cabin in the woods….

Back with Cyraxo and the angel, things have gotten much more… Diplomatic…

"PUT IT ON!"

Well…. Diplomatic…may be a stretch….

"MAKE ME!"

A big….stretch…

"GRRRRRR"

"RRRRRRRR"

Ok, fine! It's complete Anarchy!

The scene before us shows Cyraxo and the Angel toe to toe with each other, the angel holding an old pink dress around Cyraxos' size, Cyraxo, glaring at the angel with anger, and of course, not wearing anything.

"You just frolicking around this place with nothing on is unsightly, and disgusting! Please! Put some article of clothing on at once!"

"Over my dead body!" Cyraxo shouts back.

"Gladly!" The angel retaliates.

"Hah! I'd like to see you try! You holy little punk!" She smirks.

"Are you challenging me?" He snorts.

"Maybe, are you?" She glares back at him.

"Perhaps…" He growls.

They stand there glaring each other down for quite some time; both of them don't want to get in a brawl with the other. Cyraxo could breathe fire, and had her claws that would gladly shear the flesh from his bones

He on the other hand would make her a living pincushion with his holey arrows that would make her die screaming in pain as he skewered her on his sword.

This is where Diplomacy kicks in…

Cyraxo backs off a little as does the Angel.

"Ok, fine, I'll wear it… but only if you do something for me…" She points at him with a clawed finger.

"First tell me it is that I have to do…" He demands, folding his arms.

"Hmm…" She thinks to herself for a moment and then gets an idea… "You… have to cook for the both of us…" she grins.

"Ok. Deal." He says casually shrugging his shoulders. "You wear it while I'm around, and I'll cook."

"Wait, so you don't mind doing all the cooking." She asks.

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"Not at all."

"Lem'me guess…" Cyraxo sighs; she was hoping that it would be hard for him to cook. "You can cook…." She groans.

"Very well actually." He smirks.

"I hate you."

"As do I." He laughs as he tosses her the dress.

…Five minutes later…

The angel was in the kitchen using an old kitchen knife he found to chop carrots and apples and then place them in a bowl set to the side of the counter he was working on.

"Ok…I'm done." Cyraxo called from the adjoining room as she walked in.

He glanced over his shoulder and nearly dropped the knife.

It was nothing special, just an ordinary dress that went down to the wearers feet with a ribbon tied around the waist to hold it In place and a tank top like upper half that had another ribbon tied around the neck loosely.

And it was pink, the ribbons were white.

Cyraxo stood in it, her eyes glaring daggers at the Angel. She had to cut two holes in the dress so her wings would fit though…

"I hate you…SO MCUH…" Cyraxo growled savagely. "The free lunch better be worth it… or else I'll be having YOU. For lunch…" She threatened.

"I believe you'll find it satisfying, I don't think Demon-" Cyraxo gave him a warning glance with a soft growl. "-DemonESSES… Have that big of a pallet." He corrected himself.

"You'd be right, too." She grumbled. "This damn thing is so itchy!" She swore, scratching at her sides carefully so she didn't tear the fabric.

"You'll get used to it… just give it time." He told her.

After a few Minutes of Silence with only the sound of a small fire over a pan of steaming food being cooked softly at low heat, Cyraxo asked a question.

"Who the hell are you?" She said blandly, she sat at the table with her elbow propped up on the table holding her head leisurely, her feet crossed over each other under the dress.

He glanced up quickly from his cooking and over at Cyraxo. "I beg your pardon?" He asked.

"What's your NAME? I'm Cyraxo, and you are…?" She left the question opened ended, pointing at him with her free hand questioningly.

"Oh! I'm sorry, my name is Cylar Veraga" (Sigh-lar V-air-ay-gAH)

Cyraxo smirked and snickered gleefully, "Veraga? Sounds more like Very-gay-yeah!" She teases.

Cylar scowled at Cyraxo and muttered something along the lines of demons and whores and BDSM and Cyraxo and years of inbreeding.

"Very funny fruity-cake." She rolls her eyes at his remark, and then asks. "When the heck is that food going to be done anyway?" She sighs.

"Soon, just hold on." He smirks.

A few minutes later…

"All right. Here it is." Cyraxo' tail wags slightly as he brings over a bowl of…

…Fruits and Vegetables.

The angel sits down and serves himself a helping and all the while Cyraxo looks at him with a _'What The Fuck Is This'_ Expression on her face.

"Excuse me," She suddenly says, and the angel named Cylar looks up at her. "But, what is this?" She asks him incredulously, pointing at the bowl of greenery.

"It's lunch." He says, taking a bite of his lunch.

"Ehh, for an Angel, yeah, but for a growing Demoness, it's poison practically." She scowls, poking at one of the crinkly leaves.

"I know." He smirks. "You said to cook, you never said _what_ to cook, and for who specifically." He points out, smirking victoriously at her, flaunting the fatal loophole in her face.

Cyraxo glared at him, and bared her fangs menacingly, her violet eyes flashed with rage. "I am to _murder_ you _so hard…_" She growls, she was angrier at herself then the angel, she should've known better then to trust his word, and that he would pull something like this.

"But wait, you also didn't say how long I had to wear this!" She smirks, and began to remove the dress.

"Hold on there," He holds up a hand. "You said to cook and I did, but I remember you agreeing to as long as I'm around you'd wear it…" He smirks.

"You-! You-!" She stammers in a fit of rage, she let out an enraged breath that caused a small jet of black flame to curl out from in-between her teeth and sail upwards. "ERG!" She pushed away from the table and stormed out of the room in a fit.

Cylar just smiled to himself, and enjoyed his meal. "And they say there's no fun in diplomacy…" He chuckles.

…

Cyraxo sat on the couch, mumbling curses as she sat in self pity. "Stupid angel… Why'd they have to be so friggen smart…? 'You didn't say what to cook' Bah! What to cook my ass!" She hisses, but that's when she gets an idea…

…

"Yo! Angel!" Cyraxo shouts from the doorway to the kitchen.

"What is I-" Cylar glares over at the doorway but then freezes when he see's.

Cyraxo was clothless once more. Well, slightly clohtless.

She still had the bow around her neck and the other on her tail.

"Where in the name of Heaven is the dress? Didn't I tell you-"

"You did tell me." She snickers. "But you never said what part of the dress I have to wear…" She smiles evilly.

Cylar is about to rebuke what she said, but then slams his mouth shut in defeat. "Fine. You win this round…" He sighs.

"Damn right I did… and by the way." She steps into the room fully. "Do you think I look good with these bows?" She asks.

Cylar just sighs and lets his head fall onto the table.

"Why me…" He moans.

Cyraxo just laughs at his sorrow, and then leaves the room, skipping slightly.

Cylar was right, diplomacy IS fun!

….

End Chapter.

Score one for Non violent Loopholes, Dietary restrictions! And Cyraxo Naked with a Bow around her neck and tail! (You honestly think I was going to deprive the story from that hysterical sexual Innuendo that comes with not wearing clothes?)


End file.
